For The Boy Who Has Everything
by FoolishWishmaker
Summary: Voldemort is dead, but the world is going to hell anyway. Harry is forced to go into hiding as Snape's son. Little does he know, it isn't just a useful disguise. Severitus challenge. 5th/6th year AU. Warnings: SLASH Lupin/Black and Lupin/Snape, swearing. UPDATED!
1. Chapter 1

The voices in the corridor stopped abruptly. Harry fixed his gaze determinately on the floor.

Four people came in. Harry didn't look up, but he knew from the uneven thump-clunk on the marble that one of them was Mad-Eye Moody.

"Harry," said Kingsley Shacklebolt's deep, gruff voice, "are you up to making a statement?"

Harry jerked his head. Yes, he'd make a statement. This was just the beginning of statements he'd have to make, and it didn't matter if he started now or if they got to him later.

"Can you tell us what happened after you left the Death Chamber?"

Harry drew a breath, his chest constricting painfully around it. "I followed Bellatrix Lestrange to the atrium. We dueled. Voldemort -" He had to stop and take another breath, letting it out slowly. "Voldemort appeared. Dumbledore saved my life. And he killed him." Harry gritted his teeth, rocking forward in the chair. "Voldemort killed him."

There was a short silence.

"Now, wait just a minute," said a voice Harry did not recognize. "You say You-Know-Who killed Dumbledore? But then - surely you aren't saying - well, that _you_ killed You-Know-Who?"

Harry laughed mirthlessly. "No. Sorry."

"Then how - ?"

A hand was placed on Harry's shoulder, and Lupin's soft voice came to him as though from very far away. "Harry?"

A darkness was closing in around him, and his own voice reached him like a distorted echo. "Dumbledore... took him down... with him."

* * *

Harry awoke in the light-flooded infirmary, his head throbbing. For one moment, as his hand flew to his forehead, he thought his scar was burning again.

His hand met bandages.

And he remembered everything.

Voldemort, inside his head. His head exploding with pain. Being blind. Wanting to die, and in that moment finding a kind of peace that he had never felt in life. And the screaming. A long, lingering scream of fury and agony. Lightning exploding, not through his tightly-shut eyelids but through a jagged gap in his forehead.

And then... nothing.

No pain, no sound, and an impenetrable darkness.

It had taken him a long time to open his eyes, and he found that he had curled into a protective ball on the floor. In front of him, Voldemort and Dumbledore circled in silence, like partners in some kind of dance, wands outstretched. Twin beams of light, one red and the other green, connected between them, and for a moment Harry was blind again, thrown backwards by the force and burning heat that exploded in front of him.

And then they were dead, and Lupin was picking him up off the floor, half-hugging and half-strangling him to get him out of the way of the stone walls and ceiling crumbling around them.

They must have made it. Harry's next disjointed memories were of seeing his friends, some of them able to walk and some being carried, Death Eaters being led away, bodies on the floor covered with white sheets, and blood... and being questioned.

He sat up slowly. He didn't seem to be hurt, except for the pain in his head.

For the first time, he noticed he was not alone. Lupin was slumped in a chair next to his hospital bed, his robes rumpled and his hand even in sleep gripping his wand tightly.

There were sounds on the other side of the curtain separating Harry's bed from the rest of the infirmary, and he pulled the edge of the curtain aside.

Almost every bed he could see was occupied. He saw Neville's hunched form on the bed nearest his, and Luna sitting on another with her upturned face gazing dreamily out of the window, the fingers of both hands heavily bandaged. He searched for Ron and Hermione, but didn't see them. One bed was stripped, a rust colored stain in the middle of the mattress.

Madam Pomfrey was bent over an unmoving figure lying on a bed at the far end of the room. Harry thought he saw red hair, and heaved himself to his feet.

"Where do you think you are going, Potter?"

Harry turned, his head reeling as he looked up at Snape bearing down on him.

Lupin jerked awake with a startled grunt. "Harry?"

He saw Snape, and for a moment looked confusedly between the two of them. "Severus. I must have dozed off..."

"Obviously," Snape said, his lip curling.

Lupin was guiding Harry gently but firmly back to the bed. Harry could feel Snape's eyes burning into him.

"Does he need another potion, Severus?"

Snape scowled. "No. This one is for Granger."

Harry twisted out of Lupin's grasp. "Where is she? Is she all right?"

Snape's scowl deepened. "Ten potions to heal the damage. What do you think, Potter?"

Lupin's hands came down even more firmly on Harry's shoulders. "If that's for Miss Granger, Severus, then please take it to her."

Snape looked about to retort, but there was a shout from the other end of the room and he turned on his heel and stalked toward Madam Pomfrey and the now violently twitching body she was attempting to restrain.

"Is that Ginny?" Harry asked, unable to look away.

Lupin didn't answer him, but jerked the curtain closed around the bed.

"Did anyone else die?" It was suddenly hard to breathe. He managed only a whisper. "Did I get anyone else killed?"

It was a lifetime before Lupin answered him. "No. There are some injuries. No one else died."

And then he had Harry in a fierce, crushing embrace, and reassuring words that meant nothing were pouring out in a deluge.

Harry shut his eyes and was blind again, and there was screaming; a long wail of agony that began with a name and ended in hoarse, broken sobs.

* * *

Harry was sitting in the shade of a tree, looking out across the glittering waters of the lake.

He had wanted to be alone.

He had broken away from Ron as he argued with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who were at Hogwarts to take Ginny home, and had wandered the nearly deserted hallways of the school until he found himself in the courtyard.

Lupin was there, sitting on a stone bench, his dull eyes staring at a piece of parchment in his hand, his shoulders slumped. He neither moved nor looked up as Harry sat down next to him.

The parchment he was holding bore a dozen Ministry seals. A thick, gold-lined envelope lay on the ground at Lupin's feet. The original address, number twelve Grimmauld Place, London, was crossed out; the letter had been forwarded to Hogwarts, and was addressed to... Harry.

"He left you everything," Lupin said, not looking at Harry and still staring at the parchment without seeming to see it. "I suppose that's why they sent this to you."

His stomach clenched, but somehow his hand reached out and took the parchment from Lupin.

It was a posthumous pardon.

For a long time he, like Lupin, stared at it without really seeing it. The words ran together.

He folded it carefully and put it down on the bench beside Lupin, who still hadn't moved, and he backed away, away, until he could no longer see Lupin at all, and was sitting by the lake with his hands around his knees, his eyes prickling as he stared into the reflected sunshine on the water.

Someone would come and find him, he knew. His friends never left him for long, and when he didn't talk, they filled the silence. But for now, he wanted to be alone.

Hogwarts was closing early, though it hardly made much difference; there were only a few days left in the school year. Many students had already left. Ron would be leaving that day if his parents could convince him.

Then there would be a funeral; Albus Dumbledore would be buried on Hogwarts grounds. Harry didn't think he would be there. Unless someone would come for him, and they would have to convince the Dursleys to let him go.

He was going back, and it seemed to him that he was caught in a nightmare. Voldemort was gone; he didn't need his relatives' protection anymore, but he was still a child and he had no one else.

Absolutely no one in the whole world.

He had always, always felt alone, but never like this. He had taken for granted that he had the school, had Dumbledore, had Sirius, had the Weasleys. Even though Dumbledore sent him back to Privet Drive every summer. Even though Sirius hadn't been around. Even though Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had their own children to bring up. He'd had them. Even when they seemed to ignore him or shut him out, or when his letters came back undeliverable, or when he didn't know where they were for the moment. He'd had them.

Now Sirius was gone, and Dumbledore was gone, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, collecting their damaged children from the hospital wing, didn't spare him a glance.

Suddenly, he knew just how alone he really was. Without parents and friendless, just as he'd been before discovering his destiny, before discovering what he was and the world he belonged to, before coming to Hogwarts. He was right back where he'd been five years ago.

With only the Dursleys.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione limping toward him over the lawn, one hand held stiffly against her ribs. He averted his face, brushed the back of his hand over his eyes, and stood quickly.

"Ron's going," Hermione said, reaching him. "You'd best come, he's putting up a fuss."

Her hand slipped around his, and he didn't pull back, letting her lead him back to the castle.


	2. Chapter 2

The Dursleys were as bad as ever.

Harry tried to stay out of their way, but the problem was that _they_ wouldn't stay out of _his_. Dudley was still teasing him about Cedric, because Harry woke up screaming every night, and the Dursleys didn't know about Sirius.

Aside from the usual heavy load of dull chores, Harry was spending more time than ever locked in the cupboard under the stairs. He hadn't had to sleep there in years, and the fact that he had to now was somehow very fitting with his new situation.

Only once had he argued.

The Dursleys were going out. Would be gone for the whole evening.

Vernon was holding open the cupboard door. "Get in, boy."

Recklessly, he started, "I think some of my friends might be interested to know -"

He got that far only. Vernon's red, beefy face leaned very, very close to his, leering.

"I don't see anyone coming to check on you," he said in a low, dangerous voice, stepping forward and forcing Harry to take a step back, almost into the cupboard. "I never got the impression it matters to anyone what happens to you. Even those freaks have better things to do than to concern themselves about worthless _orphans_ like you."

He spat out the word 'orphan' with special disgust.

"That's right, Dad," Dudley said from behind his father. "We haven't heard anything from that convict godfather of his, have we? I think he made it all up. No one would want _him_... not _even_ a convict."

Vernon shoved Harry the rest of the way into the cramped cupboard and slammed the door shut. "That's right," he said, his eyes narrowed at Harry through the narrow slits of the vent. "We haven't heard a thing, have we."

"He got caught, that's what I think," Dudley continued, grinning at Harry and smacking his Smeltings stick across the door, causing bits of old spiderwebs and chipped paint to rain down on Harry. "Did they give him the electric chair, Harry?" he asked in a nasty wheedling voice.

Harry didn't say a word.

"We'll be late," said Aunt Petunia, coming into the hallway. "Come along, Vernon." And as she walked past the cupboard door, her eyes bore into Harry's with a coldness that he felt to his bones. Suddenly, he was sure that she knew, that someone must have written to her, or spoken to her when she and Dudley and Vernon had come to the station to pick him up at the start of summer.

He slid onto the trundle bed that occupied most of the space in the cupboard and listened as the Dursleys left the house, then the car reversing down the drive, and finally... silence.

There was never anything to do in the cupboard but wait. He watched a thin line of light travel slowly up the wall as the evening grew long, until finally he was lying in complete darkness.

He didn't mind being in the cupboard, really. It was the knowledge that they could lock him away and there wasn't a single person in the world who would care.

And that it was his fault.

Peter Pettigrew may have killed Cedric, and Bellatrix Lestrange may have killed Sirius, and Voldemort may have killed Dumbledore... but it was Harry's fault.

And that was something he could never forget.

Neither would anyone else forget, he knew. He couldn't expect them to. Maybe for a while the papers would be content to rehash the story of how Albus Dumbledore took down the Dark Lord (while pointing out that Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, had not), and what a great loss Dumbledore's death was to the wizarding world, but sooner or later someone would decide the story needed a new angle, and then they'd take a closer look at why Dumbledore died that day.

He figured he'd gone from hero to zero that day at the Ministry of Magic, and that was just fine with him. He'd never wanted to be the hero. He wouldn't have been, anyway. Anyone who'd thought he would be the one to end Voldemort was a nutter. It never would have happened. But now, he wondered if the pendulum would swing the other way. From hero to pariah. He didn't think he could stand it, no matter how much he deserved it. The wizarding world was the only thing he had left. He'd lost everything else. If he was driven out, well... Harry just didn't know how he would go on. He couldn't live as a Muggle. Not while knowing what he knew. Not while knowing about the other world; the world that had changed everything for him.

He didn't know how bad things could get. Ron and Ginny's parents certainly hadn't given him much hope, and he didn't think they were unreasonable. He'd almost got both their youngest children killed, not to mention Dumbledore. Lupin might not think much of him after he'd had more time to think things over, either. Sirius had been his best friend, his last childhood friend, and, Harry had thought on a few occasions, maybe had been even more than that.

He, Harry, had ruined more lives than just about anyone save for Voldemort himself. There were Death Eaters accused of causing fewer deaths than Harry felt responsible for. No matter what Lupin or anyone else said, Harry knew he was responsible.

He wished that he could get his hands on the Daily Prophet. He wanted to know what was going on. What people were saying. If all the Death Eaters had been rounded up. If Hogwarts would reopen next year, and who the new Headmaster or Headmistress would be. He could just imagine what the Ministry of Magic might do at the school now that Dumbledore was gone. Someone like Umbridge might be the new Head next year, and then he didn't know if it was worth going back at all.

But no, he'd go to Hogwarts even if Umbridge was teaching every class. If they'd take him back. He supposed they would. He hadn't broken any wizard laws. Being stupid, and thoughtless, and cursed wasn't against the law.

It was frustrating to be stuck at the Dursleys, and to know that this summer he couldn't even expect an early reprieve. This summer, Ron and Fred and George wouldn't be flying a stolen car to rescue him, and the Order wouldn't be escorting him to a secret headquarters in London, and he didn't suppose the Minister of Magic would arrange for a two week stay at the Leaky Cauldron if Harry ran away to Diagon Alley. He supposed there was a chance he'd get a summons to appear before the Wizengamot, either for more questioning or to give testimony, but he didn't think even that was likely.

It was a long time before the first of September, and besides that, he wasn't sure how he would get his things from Privet Drive to the station, with a stop in Diagon Alley for his new books and supplies. He might have to owl Hermione some gold and ask her to purchase his things for him, and to owl him some Muggle money for bus fare.

He would do it now, while the Dursleys were out, but Hedwig still hadn't returned. She had been gone since his first night back, when Uncle Vernon had shaken her roughly out of her cage and threw her outside.

"I don't want this ruddy owl making a racket," he growled at Harry. "Tell it to keep away."

Harry wondered if she would know to come back before the end of summer, and where she was right now.

He was supposed to be sending letters. And receiving them, too. Lupin had told him to owl every three days, and Moody, who had been part of the group that escorted the last of the Hogwarts students to London, had told him the Order would check on him if they didn't hear from him.

But no one had. He hadn't sent a single letter, or received one, or ever had the feeling of being watched.

It still stung to know that they hadn't meant what they said, and that they didn't think anything of not hearing from him for a three week stretch, even though he knew they didn't owe it to him to care.

No one owed him anything. He didn't belong to anyone. Wasn't anyone's responsibility. The only people who ever did have that responsibility were dead, and Harry himself was the reason.

Not that either Dumbledore or Sirius had exercised much _in loco parentis_ responsibility. But he'd had them, anyway. That had been worth something, if only in some corner of his own mind.

Harry shifted uncomfortably on the thin mattress, trying to spare his back from the broken springs. He didn't wish, exactly, that the Dursleys would come back, but if they did he might at least be let out to do chores. He didn't mind that, not really. It gave him something to do other than to think.

It was past dinner now for certain, and Harry wondered if he ought to steal some food before the Dursleys returned, since they were sure to eat out and it was far from likely that Aunt Petunia would give him anything other than cold soup from a tin or day-old bread. Leaving the cupboard was trivial, of course, but he would hate to be caught at it and have them keep a closer eye on him than they did already. He couldn't be sure how long they had been out, and they hadn't said when they would be back. It could be hours from now, or they might be on their way back right now, and it took longer to lock the cupboard door again with an imprecise tool like a hairpin than it did to open it.

His stomach hurt with hunger. He hadn't eaten anything since lunch, and then it had been only half an egg and an apple. He decided to risk it after all.

He sat up, rummaging in the pocket of Dudley's oversized trousers to find the hairpin, and he was about to fit it into the lock when he heard the front door being opened. Quickly he hid the pin again.

There was a long silence. Then the door was shut, and he heard footsteps moving down the hallway. They were completely unlike either Uncle Vernon or Dudley's, and they were heavier than Aunt Petunia's normally were, but heels clicked on the parquet and Harry supposed if Aunt Petunia was carrying heavy shopping bags...

"_Lumos_."

Definitely not Aunt Petunia, then. Harry instinctively huddled lower so that he would not be seen through the slits in the cupboard door. The pale wandlight barely penetrated into the cupboard, as the caster was still a ways down the hallway.

Harry's heart was pounding hard in his chest, and his hands had grown sweaty. He didn't have his wand. His wand was upstairs, in Dudley's second bedroom, hidden under the floorboards and with his heavy trunk standing on top of it. He didn't fancy trying to get at it if he needed it.

And it seemed that he might need it, because the footsteps continued down the hallway toward his cupboard, and whoever it was did not call out Harry's name like he would expect someone with a good reason to visit Privet Drive to do.

A good reason other than wanting to kill him, that is.

But apparently whoever was out there did not know about the cupboard, because the footsteps moved away toward the front room.

Harry wiped his hands on his trousers and dug the hairpin out of his pocket again. If he could get out fast enough, he might be able to run outside and... hide.

Granted, it wasn't the most dramatic plan, but he didn't think running upstairs for his wand while a fully-armed wizard was on the ground floor was such a brilliant idea.

He was about to begin picking the lock when the footsteps returned into the hallway.

Barely daring to breathe, he listened as they walked right to his cupboard, but didn't pause in front of it. The dining room door, directly opposite the cupboard, squeaked on its hinges, and from the way the light moved Harry imagined the wand was being held high overhead to illuminate the large room. A minute later the footsteps moved past the cupboard and to the kitchen at the end of the hallway.

And then back toward the cupboard again.

Harry held his breath and crouched as low as he could, his knees in pain from kneeling on the uneven floor.

He couldn't help but keep his face turned upward, and he saw a brilliant light at the tip of a wand that was pushed close to the slits in the door. The cupboard walls, with their shelves full of old preserves and various household odds and ends, were cast in a harsh white light. Harry squinted but could not see who was peering into the cupboard. His heart hammered, and he was sure he would be either seen or heard.

But just as suddenly, the light was gone and the footsteps moved purposefully toward the stairs.

Harry slowly let out a shaky breath.

He worked as fast as he could while trying not to make a sound. It couldn't be helped; the lock clicked as it sprung back. Harry winced and froze, listening.

He heard nothing.

He took a deep breath. How many steps was it from the cupboard to the front door? Was the kitchen closer? He could get out the back, and then he would not have to pass the stairs, but he would need to climb the fence to leave the yard, and that would slow him down.

Another deep breath, and then he grabbed the door handle and...

The door wouldn't open, for a moment sending him into a confused panic. He threw himself at it, and it came unstuck and he stumbled out into the hall, careened off the opposite wall, and finally made a dash for the front door.

Long before he would have reached it, he felt his foot catch on the edge of a rug and went sprawling, arms outstretched to break his fall. Before he even hit the floor, he knew he blew it. There was no way all that racket hadn't been heard.

Any moment now -

"Mr. Potter."

Harry shut his eyes and groaned. It wasn't even worth getting up off the floor.

But he did. His face was burning, but he tried to glare as he turned to face Snape.

Snape slowly descended the last few steps, his expression unreadable.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked hotly. As if it wasn't bad enough to have to deal with Snape at Hogwarts, somehow having him skulking around Privet Drive was worse.

Snape's face twisted into his usual scowl. "I've come to collect you."

"Collect me?" Harry repeated in disbelief. "What do you mean collect me?"

He could see Snape's anger rising, but he didn't particularly care. He glared back as Snape looked down his nose at him with narrowed eyes.

"Your stay with your relatives is over for the summer," Snape said. "Pack your things and bring them here."

Harry didn't move.

"Well?" Snape asked. "Are you so stupid that you do not understand simple instructions?"

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

Snape made a move as if to grab his arm, and Harry had to dodge out of the way. "Yes, you are. Now -"

But he didn't finish, because at that moment the front door banged open and Dudley blundered in, carrying a large bag of sweets and too engrossed in trying to unwrap one to watch where he was going. Behind him, the drive was illuminated by the headlamps of the Dursleys' car, and Aunt Petunia was making her way to the house with a sack of groceries in each hand.

Dudley flicked on the hallway lights, looked up from his sweet, saw Snape, dropped his bag and sent caramels and gum balls flying across the floor, and screamed so loudly that Harry only just kept himself from slapping his hands over his ears.

"Dudley? Dudley, what is it?" Petunia called as she hurried up the steps. "What is -"

She saw Snape and Harry, who were still frozen in the same position, though Snape had withdrawn his hand.

She screamed.

Harry darted a glance at Snape, and saw him roll his eyes with a most disgusted expression. He felt that things couldn't possibly be any worse, but he knew they would be when Uncle Vernon joined Dudley and Aunt Petunia.

"Uh... Aunt Petunia..." he started hesitantly. It wasn't as though he had a good explanation handy for why Snape was at their house. "I..."

But Aunt Petunia was not paying any attention to him. She was staring at Snape with horror, her hands clawing at Dudley as she tried to gather him to her. "YOU! YOU!" She sputtered, seeming to be unable to say anything more than that.

"Aunt Petunia, do you know who -" Harry began rather curiously.

"I KNOW WHO HE IS!" Petunia roared at him, her eyes wide and wild.

Harry did not know what to say to that.

"I have come to take the boy off your hands," Snape said calmly. "We were about to collect his belongings and leave."

If possible, Aunt Petunia's eyes grew even wilder, flashing between Harry and Snape with a mixture of emotions that truly frightened Harry. "TAKE HIM! TAKE HIM! AND DON'T BRING HIM BACK! WE DON'T WANT HIM HERE, WE NEVER WANTED -" Her voice broke suddenly and she rounded on Harry, one claw-like hand raised as if to strike him. "FILTH! FILTH, LIKE YOUR MOTHER. LIKE YOUR... YOUR..." With a sudden terrified shriek she cut herself off, grabbed Dudley practically off his feet, and rushed from the house, almost colliding with Uncle Vernon on the lawn.

Harry stared as the three of them looked back one last time before piling into the car and tearing down the drive with a squeal of rubber.

He felt like he had just survived a minor tornado. He raked one hand through his hair and tried to suppress a nervous laugh bubbling up in his throat. It wasn't funny, really, because they would be back, and he was going to catch it. He had no idea what had set Aunt Petunia off, because she wasn't usually that explosive.

"Potter."

Harry suddenly remembered Snape was still there.

Snape's tone was deliberate and slow, and Harry somehow knew he was not going to argue this time.

"Get your things. Now."

He did. He had never unpacked, save for hiding his wand and a quill and parchment under the floorboards, so it took only a minute to pocket his wand and drag his trunk out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Snape flicked his wand, shouldered the heavy trunk effortlessly, and strode toward the front door. "Come along, Potter. You wasted enough of my time for one night."

Reluctantly, Harry followed.

Privet Drive was completely dark and completely silent. Harry wondered why none of the street lights were on despite the late hour.

He had to nearly run to keep up with Snape, and then nearly bumped into him when Snape stopped abruptly as they reached a low stone wall at the corner.

"You do not have your Apparition license."

It was not a question; you had to be at least seventeen to get one, but Harry muttered a sullen, "No."

"Give me your arm."

Harry loathed to let any part of him touch Snape, but he didn't appear to have very many choices. Grudgingly, he offered his arm, which Snape used to yank him closer.

"Where're we going?" Harry asked quickly. It was bad enough he was letting Snape drag him away; he at least wanted to have some idea where to.

They were already going, already Apparating away; he could feel a tugging in his stomach and a horrible squeezing sensation around his ribcage, but he heard Snape's voice nonetheless.

"Number twelve, Grimmauld Place."


	3. Chapter 3

They appeared quite suddenly in the middle of a badly-lit street, Harry barely managing to stay steady on his feet. He felt disoriented, as if the inside of his head had taken a bit longer to get there and was still trying to catch up with the rest of him.

Snape was already walking up the steps, and Harry started after him, his eyes trailing over the facade of the old house. He shivered. It wasn't good to be back.

By the time he got inside, Snape had already deposited his trunk at the foot of the stairs and was lighting gas lamps on the entrance hall walls.

Harry looked around.

It was as shabby as he remembered it, and as gloomy. And freezing. He shivered again, partly with cold this time, and he wondered if he and Snape were alone.

Something seemed off, but he couldn't think what. Of course, the last time he'd been at Grimmauld Place, it had been full of people, and the silence that hung over the place now would of course seem unnatural. Even the portrait of Mrs. Black wasn't screaming.

He looked toward the portrait as he thought of it, and gaped at the empty wall where it had hung behind its set of moldy red curtains. The wallpaper was scarred, in places gouged down to the plaster, long strips missing in irregular, slash-like patterns.

"Harry. Severus."

Harry looked up. Lupin was standing in a shadowed doorway, his deeply lined face, shabby robes, and straggly, limp hair bathed in flickering light from the candle he was holding. There was no expression on his face.

Snape's eyes had narrowed. "Lupin. I suppose it was too much to ask that the lamps be lit before we arrived."

Lupin said nothing.

"Potter," Snape said, turning on Harry, his mouth thinning. "Take yourself upstairs and to bed. Second floor, second door on the left."

"But..." Harry began.

"I think it would be best if you went, Harry," Lupin said tonelessly.

Harry wanted to argue; he wanted to demand answers, but Lupin was scaring him and Snape looked about ready to drag him upstairs by the scruff of his neck. He grasped his trunk by one handle and started to drag it to the stairs.

"Leave it, Potter," Snape said. "You won't be needing your... things... tonight."

From the expression on his face, Harry guessed Snape meant his Invisibility Cloak in particular.

He dropped the trunk and stalked up two flights of stairs, to the second door on the left, and inside the small, cold bedroom. There, he sat on the edge of a narrow bed and scowled at the door, which he left partly open because the dim light filtering up the stairs and into the hallway was the only source of light. He hadn't thought to ask for a lamp, and there wasn't one in the room.

It was hard to keep from being in a bad mood when the evening had been an emotional plunge down a dark pit. His stomach was knotted, like it often was under stress. He could have used a kind word from Lupin...

That just showed what he could expect, didn't it? Lupin must have done some thinking these past weeks.

He could hear angry raised voices coming from the ground floor, and considered creeping down the hallway to the top of the stairs, but the argument ended suddenly with the sound of glass breaking. A door slammed.

Harry hoped Snape had left.

He wanted to get his trunk. He didn't want to leave his things in the entrance hall overnight, remembering all the people who'd come and gone from Grimmauld Place the previous summer.

He moved to the door, but froze when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. He knew exactly who it was, with those heeled boots. He sat down again.

The half-open door swung back on its hinges. Snape, carrying a lamp, scowled at him from the doorway. "I told you to go to bed."

"Is someone going to tell me what's going on?" Harry demanded.

Snape had delivered him to Grimmauld Place. Fine. He could leave now. Harry wasn't his responsibility, and he had no authority in Sirius' old house.

"It is not your place to ask questions, Potter," Snape snarled. Harry could see a vein throbbing in his temple, and guessed Snape was already livid from whatever the argument with Lupin had been about. "Your place is to do what you are told, when you are told to do it. You will either remain in this room until I tell you you may leave, or I will lock you in."

Harry had dealt with Snape enough times to know that Snape was lashing out in anger, but would follow through on his unreasonable threats if pushed. It wasn't worth it to get locked in.

"Fine," he said sullenly. "Fine. I'll go to bed. Can I have the lamp?"

Snape's lips were a thin, tight line, but he put the lamp down on a table.

"Thank you," Harry ground out between clenched teeth.

Snape shut the door behind him as he left, and for a moment Harry was certain he would hear the click of a lock despite having agreed to do as Snape said, but after a short pause Snape's footsteps moved away down the hall, another door opened and closed, and the house fell into a sudden silence.

Harry thought about his trunk downstairs, but in the end he undressed and got into bed. It had been a very, very long day.

Despite that, he didn't fall asleep right away. Being back in Sirius' house seemed to make the empty place inside him even bigger and emptier. Sirius hadn't liked the house, but Harry had spent more time with Sirius at Grimmauld Place than anywhere else. Maybe, somehow, in his mind, he had been thinking of it as practice for the time when Sirius would be a free man and Harry could go live with him.

The bed was lumpy and hard, but Harry was used to sleeping in uncomfortable positions in his cramped cupboard. After what seemed like a very long time, his eyes fell shut and he was asleep.

* * *

Pale morning sunlight barely penetrated the single grimy window in Harry's bedroom, but it was enough for him to have a decent look around.

The room was very small, with no furniture other than the bed, a small table, and an old-fashioned wardrobe. There were two doors, one of which Harry had not noticed before. It led to a tiny bathroom where the pipes gurgled and spat rusty water into the sink. He left it, disgusted.

Ignoring Snape's warning to stay in the room, he went downstairs. Finding no one there, he took the time to drag his trunk to the bedroom, then went down to the kitchen.

There was no one there, either, but the stove was hot and a kettle was whistling. Judging by the stack of clean plates on the table, Harry guessed breakfast had not yet been served, though he saw no sign of food anywhere.

He washed up in the kitchen sink, drying his face and hands on a paper napkin.

When he went to throw it in the rubbish bin, half a broken whiskey bottle lay among shards of glass. Suddenly Harry knew what he had heard breaking the previous night. He backed away slowly.

"Ah, Harry," a falsely cheerful voice said from behind him. "I hope you slept well?"

Harry looked at Lupin, willing himself not to let his eyes dart back to the rubbish bin. "Yeah, I did. Morning."

"I was just about to start breakfast. If you don't mind setting the table...?"

"Sure," Harry said. "How many places should I set?"

"Just three will do."

Harry supposed that meant Snape was still there, and that thought instantly lowered his mood another notch, but he didn't say anything to Lupin.

Lupin looked like he hadn't slept at all. There were still dark circles under his eyes, and he hadn't shaved in several days.

He set the table, watching Lupin all the while out of the corner of his eyes. Finally, he had to ask.

"Er... are you well?"

Lupin grimaced. "Full moon. Getting a bit of a headache, you know?"

"Oh," said Harry. But he had never seen Lupin look so unwell before, full moon or not. "Is Snape making your potion?"

"He is," Lupin said. "And don't worry, we're taking all possible precautions."

"I wasn't worried!" Harry said fiercely. "Why would I be?"

Lupin shook his head. "No, I don't suppose... Well, in any case, I lock myself in the cellar for the duration, so you needn't expect to come across me - not that you should be wandering around at night -" He stopped and turned to look at Harry with a furrowed brow.

"I won't," Harry said quickly. "What cellar? I don't remember there being one."

"Off the drawing room. Alastor Moody found it the last time he was here. Full of dark artifacts and infested with spiders and black beetles and such. I don't think Sirius knew..." His voice trailed off and he turned back to the stove.

Harry didn't know what to say, and couldn't have said it around the lump in his throat anyway. He sat down and hid behind a copy of the Daily Prophet, a few days old, which had been lying on a chair.

It was too late by the time Lupin turned around and saw him and made a grab for the paper with a sharp, "Don't, Harry."

**HARRY POTTER**  
**The Boy Who Lived To Fail Us All**  
Nine fatalities, including Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft  
and Wizardry Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class...

Granted, it was not on the front page, but on the fourth among the cleaning product advertisements and international Quidditch scores, but Harry figured that this was merely the tail end of a series of such articles. It had been weeks since he'd left Hogwarts. They could have started in on him then, and he wouldn't have known about it because he didn't have a hope of getting the paper at the Dursleys.

Lupin wrestled the paper easily out of his suddenly limp hands.

"It's that Skeeter woman," he said, crumpling up the paper and tossing it - missing widely - toward the rubbish bin. "She's always had it in for you, hasn't she?"

"Yeah," Harry said without much enthusiasm. "Sure."

"This is a perfect example. Nine fatalities, yes... including known Death Eaters and Voldemort."

Harry swallowed thickly.

"You could have done everything right, and she would find something ugly to write. That's just the way it is with her."

But of course, Harry hadn't done everything right. He hadn't done _anything_ right.

"Sure," he said again, glumly.

For a moment, Lupin's hand trailed over Harry's shoulder, but he drew it back abruptly. "Severus. Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

Harry stared determinately at the table.

"Reasonably well," Snape said, "considering the ghoul appears to have moved into the room directly above mine."

"Yes, well..." Lupin hesitated. "I... I have been meaning to relocate him."

Snape fixed him with a hard look. "Most of us, when we mean to do something, actually get around to doing it, Lupin."

Then Snape turned to Harry, his black eyes raking over him from the top of his uncombed head down to Dudley's worn-out trainers with knotted shoe strings.

"I told you to leave your trunk where it was, Potter."

"Entirely my fault, Severus," Lupin said lightly, pouring tea into Snape's cup. "I told him he could move it to his room."

Harry, who had opened his mouth to retort, quickly clamped it shut again and tried not to look surprised.

Snape gave them both a dark look, but said nothing.

They ate in silence. Somehow everything tasted the same - bland. Harry didn't finish half of what was on his plate, but he kept picking at it, not wanting to ask to be excused and start another argument.

Snape was first to leave the table.

"I have work to do," he said. Then, turning to Lupin and narrowing his eyes, "I trust you can keep Potter away from things that don't concern him?"

Lupin frowned, looked about to say something, and then seemed to change his mind. "I will."

"Good," Snape said, though he looked like he didn't believe it. "I don't want to be disturbed."

"I understand."

Snape left.

Harry waited until he couldn't hear his footsteps.

"Does he... does he _live_ here?" he demanded indignantly.

Lupin stood up and began collecting the plates. "Sometimes. Are you finished with this?"

Harry pushed away the rest of his tea. "_Why_?"

Lupin didn't reply right away. He filled the sink with sudsy water and dropped the dishes in, then leaned back against the counter, eyes fixed somewhere over Harry's head.

"All of us are a bit at loose ends this summer. This house isn't under the Fidelius anymore, but with Hogwarts closed there aren't many places as secure. Alastor Moody and several other Order members stayed here until security on their homes could be updated... so did some of Hogwarts' staff. You know, Harry, some lived at Hogwarts year-around."

Harry hadn't been listening. "Hogwarts is closed? Completely closed?"

"Temporarily," Lupin said. "For the summer."

"Why?" Harry pressed.

"Well..." Lupin shrugged. "There has been some question of succession. It hasn't all been worked out."

"They're going to make someone awful Head, aren't they?" Harry said. The words tasted bitter in his mouth. "Like Umbridge."

"I don't know. I hope not."

Harry shuddered.

"Well," Lupin said, rubbing his forehead, "I suppose we'd best get you settled in now that you're here for the summer. I do apologize for last night..."

"That's all right," Harry said quickly.

"No, I do." Lupin shook his head and sighed. "Really, I should have brought you from the Dursleys myself, Harry, but I was feeling especially unwell. Severus - still Professor Snape to you, by the way, Harry - hadn't been here for a few days, and I somehow lost track of the time." He shook his head again. "Anyway, I imagine he upset them. Did he?"

"Aunt Petunia... exploded... a bit," Harry admitted. "I don't think I've ever seen her like that."

"Ah," said Lupin, rubbing his forehead again.

"But they'll get over it by next summer," Harry added hastily. "They always do."

Lupin looked at him, not saying anything. Harry couldn't read the expression on his face.

"What should I do now that I'm here?" Harry asked when Lupin still didn't speak.

Lupin shook his head as though to clear it. "Your schoolwork, to start with. Do you have any?"

"Not really," Harry said. "Just some in Charms and Transfiguration. Nothing was assigned in Defense Against the Dark Arts... because of Umbridge. And I don't know if I'll pass the rest. I won't have my O.W.L. results until the end of summer, I expect."

"I'm sure you will pass."

Harry nodded without much conviction.

"Severus is using the library, so you will want to stay out of there. I wouldn't bother the ghoul if I were you, either. I don't think he liked being chased out of his toilet. He's taken up residence in a cupboard on the third floor... won't stay on the fourth; I've moved him twice now."

"I could help."

"No, thank you," Lupin said, not looking at him. "I'm sure the third time will be the charm."

There was an uncomfortable pause.

Harry backed toward the door. "I think I'll do a bit of reading, then."

He didn't wait for Lupin to reply.

* * *

Harry walked slowly down the third floor corridor, stopping every few feet to look at old portraits that glared or looked down their noses at him. He hadn't read for more than a half hour before giving it up, and there was nothing to do but wander around aimlessly. He knew if Snape caught him at it there would be another argument, but he couldn't stay shut up in his room. It was as bad as being locked in the cupboard. Worse, really, because here he couldn't stop thinking about Sirius; at least at the Dursleys he was often kept busy with chores.

He passed a door that rattled ominously on its hinges. He figured it was the ghoul's new hideout. He stared at it for a moment.

Unluckily, Lupin appeared just at that moment.

"Harry -" he began reproachfully.

"I wasn't going to open it," Harry said, hating how Lupin assumed the worst of him now. "Really. I was just walking past."

Lupin didn't look as if he believed him. "Run along. I have to get him upstairs before heading out."

"Out? Out where?"

"I need to mail a letter. We haven't got an owl here, so I have to take it to the post office in Diagon Alley."

"Oh," Harry said. Then, hopefully, "Can I come with you?"

"No."

It was such an abrupt answer that Harry almost fell back a step.

The expression on his face must have been dreadful, because Lupin quickly tried to pacify him.

"It isn't safe for you to be wandering around London right now, Harry," he said gently. "I won't be gone more than an hour, and then we'll have a nice quiet lunch. Severus never makes an appearance, so it will be just the two of us."

"Sure," Harry said, not meaning it. "That sounds great."

"Well then," Lupin said, "if you don't mind...?"

Harry turned and walked toward the stairs, glancing back at Lupin and the rattling door when he reached the end of the hallway. Lupin was watching him.

Sighing, he walked down to his room and threw himself on the bed.

Things were not going well, and he didn't know how to fix it.

He _couldn't_ fix it. That was the problem.

It couldn't be fixed, and it was all wrong, and he was stuck here until the end of summer just like he had been stuck at the Dursleys, only here was worse, somehow. At least at the Dursleys he had never thought to expect anyone to care about him. He had expected Lupin's feelings toward him to change, but it still stung, most of all because he couldn't blame Lupin for it, and because expecting something awful didn't do much to prepare one for the reality of it.

For a while he occupied himself by writing to Hermione. He couldn't mail the letter, since he didn't have Hedwig, but writing to her felt almost like talking to her, because as he wrote he could almost hear her voice inside his head, saying what he was sure she would say if she were to reply. He knew her that well.

Maybe.

But he'd thought he knew Ron, too; Ron was his best friend. But Ron hadn't even promised to write to him before leaving Hogwarts. And he _hadn't_ written.

Neither had Hermione.

He wanted those letters - desperately. He wanted to know what they were doing and what they were thinking, what they thought of the articles about him and if they knew anything about Hogwarts and what he could expect. Ron's dad might know more than Lupin, or might have told Ron more than Lupin would tell Harry.

But there hadn't been any letters. He didn't know what to assume. He didn't want to assume that they didn't write because they didn't want to write; he wanted to think they had a good reason, but deep down inside he had already jumped to the worst conclusion.

He also didn't know if they would tell him everything even if they did write. More and more he was noticing that people would tell him what they thought he wanted to hear, or should hear, or what was easier for them to tell him, instead of telling him the truth. It had always been the case, but since Sirius...

Lupin hadn't told the truth either, because he wasn't back in an hour. He wasn't back in two hours. And when he was back, three or four hours later, Harry only knew because he had been listening for the front door.

He went down to the kitchen, feeling pathetic because he couldn't stay away from where he wasn't wanted.

When he walked in, Lupin was putting groceries away in a cupboard, and when he saw Harry he hastily moved the Daily Prophet off the table, no doubt hoping Harry wouldn't notice.

"Sorry I was held up," he said, not looking directly at Harry. "Long lines."

"That's all right," Harry said. He sat down and stared at a small pile of letters on the table. Of course, none of them would be for him...

"Letter from Ron for you," Lupin said, following his gaze and picking a grubby looking envelope out of the pile. "Looks like it's been through a bit of bad weather." But he didn't give it to Harry. Instead, looking apologetic, he started to open it. "It's been forwarded. No knowing where it was last."

Harry nodded.

Lupin discarded the envelope and shook the single sheet of parchment until it came unfolded. He barely glanced at it before handing it to Harry.

"Looks fine. Now, sit right there and read it, and I'll have some tea and biscuits ready in a minute."

Harry nodded and spread the letter out on the table, holding the curling edges down. The ink was smudged. It did look like it had been wet at some point, and then dried out while still folded up.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lupin toss the envelope into the stove, where it was immediately consumed by the flames. He frowned, but didn't think anything of it. He didn't care about the envelope, after all.

The letter was dated a week prior.

_Dear Harry,_

_How's your summer? Mine's all right. Bill and  
Charlie are here, and it's cramped and loud.  
Makes me glad we haven't got any schoolwork this  
summer, because I don't know how I'd manage to  
do it with them all crowding me. Mum and Dad  
reckon we should go to Egypt for the rest of the  
summer. Bill has to get back anyway, see, and  
ever since Aurors searched our place Mum's been  
jumpy. Thinks it's likely we might be attacked.  
Ginny and I haven't been allowed out at all.  
Fred and George, too, but they just ignore it  
and go where they please anyway, since they're  
of age._

Ron rambled on for a while, complaining about Mrs. Weasley and not having anything to do.

_Hedwig's here. Showed up right after school got  
out, but with no letter. I'll send her back before  
we go, but are you all right? Hermione says her  
letters have been coming back, and she's written  
lots._

_I hope the Muggles are treating you well,_

_Ron_

_P.S.: If you don't hear from me again I'll see  
you in September. Sorry you couldn't come stay  
with us this summer, I know you don't get along  
with the Muggles._

Harry folded the letter back up and stared at it glumly.

"Bad news?" Lupin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Harry said. "It's just... I sort of hoped Ron and Hermione and I would get together this summer, in Diagon Alley at least. But Ron's family is going to Egypt."

"Already left," Lupin said, putting a steaming cup of tea in front of him. "Last week. Sorry, Harry, but you wouldn't have been able to go to the Burrow this summer even if they were there. There's been some Death Eater activity in the area."

"Ron said."

"You'll see them both when school starts again," Lupin said lightly. "It's only a few weeks."

"So I can't write back to Ron?" Harry asked.

"You can if you'd like," Lupin said. "But it would take a while to get there, and you would want to be careful what you say. Mail's being monitored."

"Is that why it took so long for Ron's letter to get here? And why Hermione's aren't being delivered?"

Lupin hesitated. "Maybe. If she's using a post owl and not her own. There's a shortage right now. All the owls are tied up with official business."

"She doesn't have her own."

"Well, then, that must be why." Lupin didn't seem concerned at all. He wouldn't know how important it was for Harry to hear from his friends. "I wouldn't worry about it."

The subject seemed to be closed, and Harry put Ron's letter in his back pocket and tried not to go over Ron's every word in his mind.

It did seem kind of odd though. Why hadn't the letter been delivered to Privet Drive? It had reached him at Grimmauld Place quickly enough, less than a day after he got there, and Lupin said it had been forwarded, but... well, it hadn't actually arrived at Grimmauld Place, had it? Lupin seemed to have brought it back with him. But why would any letter to Harry be addressed to a post office in Diagon Alley? It didn't make sense, unless Lupin hadn't only been to Diagon Alley.

Which, now that Harry focused on what was around him, seemed to be the case. Aside from buying food, Lupin must have visited a book shop, because several musty-looking books sat on the counter, almost hidden behind a sack of flour.

Lupin saw him looking. He walked over and picked up the top two books and handed them to him.

"To help you pass the time."

Both were wizard novels.

"Thanks," Harry said, trying to sound enthusiastic. They looked dull.

"They're only borrowed, but you'll be able to return them yourself when you're through."

Harry flipped open one of the books, and saw that it belonged to the Hogwarts library.

"Were you at Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"I thought it was closed."

"It is," Lupin said, and he stood up, clearly uninterested in continuing that line of conversation. "Tea's getting cold, Harry. Would you rather have plain biscuits or chocolate?"

"Plain," Harry said, not caring.

It was a dismal lunch. Harry was glad when it was over, even though that only meant he could go up to his bedroom, lie on the bed, and stare glumly at the ceiling. He'd done a lot of the same on Privet Drive.

Snape didn't show for dinner, for which Harry was glad.

Lupin didn't speak more than a few words to him before disappearing behind that day's Daily Prophet, which he didn't offer to let Harry read, and which he kept folded so that all Harry could see was the crossword.

"I don't suppose I can see that after you're done," Harry said reproachfully, not because he thought Lupin might let him, but because he felt it was terribly rude of Lupin to be sitting there, right in front of Harry, with something Harry had been dying to get his hands on for weeks.

"No," Lupin said, not looking up.

Harry scowled at his half-eaten steak and kidney pie.

"There's no need to sulk," Lupin said shortly. "I'm sorry you're not having a good time here, but it can't be helped."

"I wasn't looking for a good time," Harry retorted. "I just want to read the paper! I want to know what's going on."

"_Nothing_ is going on," Lupin said. "Just a lot of things that don't concern you at the moment."

Harry pushed away his plate, trying hard to control his temper, which was about to get away from him. "I'm not very hungry. I think I'll go upstairs."

Lupin didn't reply.

* * *

He lay in bed for a long time that night, unable to sleep.

There was no end to things he didn't understand.

Why did Snape take him from the Dursleys, when it was clear Harry wasn't wanted at Grimmauld Place?

What was in the papers that they didn't want him to know about... aside from the nasty articles about him?

_Did_ it seem like Ron had tried too hard to convince him there were good reasons Harry couldn't visit the Burrow? Was Hermione really trying but was unable to get a letter to him? And was the Weasley family really in Egypt, and unreachable by owl?

It seemed to Harry that if mail was being monitored, and you were planning to go into hiding, it wouldn't be a good idea to say where you were going in a letter to the one person whose letters were most likely to be intercepted.

* * *

He had a nightmare.

It wasn't surprising, really; the previous night had been the first night he hadn't had one since Sirius' death, probably because he'd been too exhausted.

At the Dursleys, his nightly screaming always brought Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia down on his head, and usually he ended up in the cupboard... unless he had already been there. At Grimmauld Place, no doors opened, no lights came on, and no one came to his room to see what was going on.

He was sitting up in bed, in complete darkness, listening to the silence.

After a while, he got up and dressed and went over to the window. Without a watch, it was the only way to tell what time it might be.

He could only see a strip of sky, but by craning his neck and kneeling on the narrow sill, he caught sight of the almost-full moon overhead.

Almost full... well, that was odd, wasn't it?

He hadn't been keeping track of the lunar cycles, but he had assumed from what Lupin told him - and the way Lupin looked - that there would be a full moon that night.

He rummaged in his trunk and found a calendar.

He was right; the moon wouldn't be full for almost a week.

He wondered why Lupin had misled him. And what was really wrong with him? Harry's mind kept lurching back to the bottle he had seen in the rubbish. Had Snape smashed it, or Lupin himself?

That, of course, made him think of Sirius. He wondered how long Lupin had been at Grimmauld Place. Clearly he had been there since before Harry left Hogwarts. Long enough, from what Harry had picked up on during their conversation, to play host to a number of Order members during at least one full moon. Harry reckoned it was Moody's idea to keep Lupin locked up in a cellar, so everyone else could sleep easy, even though Lupin wasn't a danger to anyone when he was taking his potion.

He decided he would ask Lupin about it, if he could find a way to work it into conversation. Maybe over breakfast.

_Something_ was going on at Grimmauld Place, and Harry didn't like it. He didn't believe for a minute that it really didn't concern him, as Lupin had said. Things usually did concern him, one way or another, and nobody told him until the very last possible moment.

He wished he had Hedwig. He could write to Hermione and tell her where he was. If her letters were really coming back undeliverable, the right address would fix that. He bet she would send him a paper if he asked.

Ron had written that he would let Hedwig go - send her to Harry - before the Weasleys left for Egypt... or wherever it was they'd gone. The letter had taken a week to get to Harry, and Lupin had said the Weasleys had left the previous week.

Where was Hedwig?

* * *

Harry was feeling tired and grumpy by the time he figured it was time to head down to breakfast. He never had managed to get back to sleep, and had spent the later half of the night thumbing though one of the books Lupin had given him. It never hooked him; it was about an insipid little do-gooder who reminded Harry strongly of Percy Weasley.

A yawn overcame him just as he stepped into the kitchen, and so when he next opened his eyes he almost leaped back in surprise.

Instead of Lupin, it was Snape who was at the stove, stirring the contents of a large pot with a long-handled wooden spoon, scowling.

It was too late to sneak back upstairs, which had been Harry's first thought; Snape had already seen him, or, more likely, had heard him coming down the stairs.

"Set the table for two, Potter."

Harry didn't move. "Where's Lupin?"

Snape turned and gave him a dark look. "He is feeling too ill to join us this morning. Do as I told you."

Harry went over to the dresser containing the plates and silverware and took out enough for two places. His feet were dragging. He did not want to eat alone with Snape.

That feeling was intensified tenfold when he saw the food. It was boiled... things. He couldn't tell what they had been originally, as they fell apart into a soggy mess when he poked them with his fork.

Snape passed him a dish with some kind of sweet-smelling sauce, and Harry drowned his plate in it.

He stole a glance at Snape's plate. Snape hadn't served himself any of the lumpy boiled things, but he had a bowl of hot mush, which looked only slightly more appetizing to Harry.

There didn't seem to be any toast, or juice, or any of the foods Harry was used to. There was a pitcher of cold water, an he gulped half a glass between every bite.

Snape drank his tea and pointedly ignored Harry.

He hadn't finished a quarter of his portion before he'd had enough. He pushed the plate away.

"May I be excused?"

Snape looked from Harry to the still mostly full plate. "You didn't finish. Sit back down."

"This isn't breakfast food," Harry muttered.

"No one asked for your opinion." Snape paused, his lip curling. "I suppose your relatives catered to your every whim."

"No, actually," Harry said recklessly, "they liked to lock me in a cupboard under the stairs with no food at all. That's where I was the night you came to get me."

Snape was giving him a hard, penetrating look, and Harry refused to turn his eyes away.

"In that case, you should be grateful anyone here bothers to put food in front of you."

Harry scowled.

He didn't eat another bite of the disgusting food, but he sat quietly, staring at his plate, until Snape finished eating.

He started to pick up his plate to take to the sink, but Snape stopped him.

"Put it in the icebox, Potter."

Harry's stomach did a flip-flop. He knew exactly what Snape was doing. The Dursleys did this too, sometimes, after they'd given him food no human being could be expected to eat, and he didn't finish it. He looked down at his plate full of grey, over-cooked lumps covered in reddish sauce, which looked even less appetizing now that they were cold. He knew he would be seeing the same plate again at the next meal.

By the time he had put the plate away, Snape had cleared the table and was standing next to the sink, where the dirty dishes were scrubbing themselves under a stream of hot water.

"Neither Lupin nor I are to be disturbed today," he said, glaring at Harry.

"Where is he? I don't even know where his room is."

"It seems to me," Snape said, eyes narrowed, "that if he wanted you to know, he would have told you himself."

With that, Snape picked up a tray - Harry noticed it was loaded with good things like toast, jam, and some kind of broth - and swept up the stairs.

Harry followed at a distance. He figured he could follow Snape all the way to Lupin's room if he was careful enough.

Snape stopped at the entrance to the drawing room and waited until Harry had passed, glaring at him until Harry was half way up the stairs.

As soon as Snape went inside, Harry ran back down, as quietly as he could.

He was just in time to see a heavy drape swish back into place at the end of the room. He ran up to it, pulled it to the side, and only just caught the edge of a door which, had it shut, would have been indistinguishable from the wall.

He waited, listening as Snape's footsteps became fainter and fainter, then pulled the door open just enough to look inside.

At first, he saw nothing but darkness. Then he looked down.

There were stairs. A narrow, steep, seemingly endless flight of steps that Harry instinctively knew did not stop at ground level but continued down uninterrupted. Far below, Harry could see the dim light of a lamp and a dark shape moving farther and farther away from him.

This was the entrance to the cellar, then.

Harry let the door go and it fell into its place, leaving no trace of itself in the wall.

He went upstairs, his thoughts whirling.

Why was Lupin sleeping in the cellar? It wasn't the full moon. What was wrong with him that he couldn't even come up for breakfast?

* * *

Lupin did manage to come up for lunch.

Snape was there as well, looking menacingly at Harry as he put down the disgusting remnants of breakfast in front of him... and even more menacingly at Lupin when Lupin whisked the plate away and served them all stew left over from the day before and hot buttered rolls.

As they ate, Harry looked at Lupin closely.

Aside from dark circles under his eyes, which seemed deeper than ever, Lupin didn't look much worse than he had when Harry arrived at Grimmauld Place.

"More tea, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "No, thank you."

"Have you written back to Ron?"

Harry shook his head again. "No."

"Well," Lupin said, "Professor Snape will be in Diagon Alley later today, so if you would like to write, you had better do so quickly."

Harry noticed that Snape was glaring murderously at the back of Lupin's head.

"Um... No, I think I'll wait on it. Hedwig should be back any day now."

Or at least he hoped she would be.

It was not until later, when he was up in his room and had heard the front door slam shut as Snape left, that Harry realized that he could have written to Hermione instead.


	4. Chapter 4

Some time before dinner, Harry tried to find Lupin. He wanted to ask him... a lot of things. He was worried about Ron, and Hermione, and Hedwig, and Lupin himself. He thought Lupin had acted warmer toward him at lunch, so perhaps, this time, Harry might get some answers out of him.

He didn't find him, however. None of the doors on the second or first floors led to rooms that looked occupied, though neither Snape's door nor the library would open for him. Harry tried the door to the cellar, but finally he gave up; clearly you needed a password or the right combination of wand taps to open it, and it was hopeless otherwise.

He was about to give up and return to his room when he heard a commotion on the third floor.

Without thinking, he ran up the stairs, coming to a halt when he saw Lupin stagger out of a room toward the end of the hallway, shutting the door behind him and almost collapsing against it.

Harry ran up to him just as Lupin managed to slide the lock closed.

"What was in there?" he asked.

Lupin wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his robe and pushed himself shakily away from the door. "What? Oh..." It seemed to Harry he was thinking quickly. "Not sure, to tell you the truth. I had wondered why this door has such complicated lock on the outside. You know what they say about curiosity." He peered at Harry closely. "Please don't get it into your head to try to rid this house of its... nastier... inhabitants, all right, Harry?"

"Why would I?" Harry asked peevishly. Lupin was talking as though Harry routinely went looking for something dangerous to take on. "I don't want to come face to face with some ghoul, or whatever is in there."

Lupin didn't say anything.

Harry abandoned any plans he'd had about speaking to Lupin. "Anyway, it looks like you've handled it, so I'll just go back to my room." A little less grumpily, he added, "I'll see you at dinner."

"I don't know if I'll make it," Lupin replied. He was holding one hand to his temple. "I feel a bit of a headache coming on."

Harry nodded miserably. Another meal alone with Snape. "I hope you feel better soon, then."

At dinner, as he sat opposite Snape and tried to ignore the fact that Snape was reading a fresh copy of the Daily Prophet, he wondered if he ought to tell Snape about what he'd seen earlier. Snape might not know the reason Lupin hadn't felt up to joining them.

He didn't have to, as it turned out. Half-way through, Lupin came in, looking terrible with blood-shot eyes. He ignored the food and pulled Snape aside.

Harry knew he wasn't supposed to be listening in, but it was impossible not to, even though Lupin was speaking almost too low for Harry to catch what he was saying.

"I wanted to warn you - there's a You-Know-What on the third floor."

Harry frowned. A You-Know-What? That thing Lupin had locked up earlier didn't even have a name Lupin was willing to say out loud? He knew it was for his benefit that Lupin didn't name it - Lupin had called Voldemort by his proper name while everyone else insisted on the You-Know-Who nonsense, so he certainly wouldn't be afraid to call a magical creature by it's proper name.

"It must have taken over the cupboard after I removed the ghoul - I thought he was back until I opened it. For now I've got it locked in across the hall, but..."

"I will take care of it," Snape said.

"I would like it gone before..." Lupin's eyes darted to Harry, who pretended to be very interested in his soup. "Well, you understand."

"Perfectly," Snape said, shooting a disgusted look in Harry's direction.

Lupin left, taking some food with him, and Snape returned to the table.

They ate in silence.

"You are not to set foot on the third floor, Potter," Snape said as Harry finished and started to stand up. "Is that perfectly understood?"

"Yes," Harry said, trying to keep from sounding sullen. He didn't care what was up there.

"What?"

"Yes, it's perfectly understood, sir."

Snape's glare was on him all the way up the stairs.

* * *

He would have kept his word, too, really he would have. He had no intention of going anywhere near the locked door on the third floor, and no desire to know what was inside.

As usual, the decision was taken out of his hands.

He was on the stairs, fully intending to go to his room and read Quidditch Through the Ages until he was tired enough to fall asleep, when he heard a funny sound. A kind of scraping.

_Scrape. Scrape. Scrape._

Like nails - or claws - on dry, flaky wood.

In hindsight, what he should have done was turn right around and get Snape... and maybe he would have done it, had he not heard another sound. A much more chilling sound.

It was the click of a lock opening. Harry would know that sound anywhere.

More scraping - a different kind of scraping - and Harry, frozen on the stairs, knew that up in the third-floor hallway, the no-longer-locked door was being slowly pushed open.

He sprinted up the stairs, wand out. He knew perfectly well that it wasn't the smartest thing to do; if Lupin, a fully-trained wizard, could barely manage it - whatever it was. But he wasn't thinking of anything other than that if he could get there quickly enough, he could slam the door shut again before the creature got it open wide enough to get out. Then he could go for help.

He got there. He even had his hand on the edge of the door, ready to push it shut with all his strength.

It was pushed open with enough force to send Harry smashing into the opposite wall.

He stood in front of the wide-open door, face to face with the one thing he never could have been prepared for.

* * *

It was a Boggart.

A simple Boggart.

A creature Harry had known how to defeat since he was thirteen years old.

And yet, he stood with his wand at his side, unable to move, completely frozen in place, unable to even look away.

The Boggart didn't move either.

It just stood there, wearing Sirius' face, and stared at Harry with angry, accusing eyes.

Harry didn't raise his wand, even when feeling returned to his body. There was nothing that would make this Boggart amusing.

He knew, suddenly, why Lupin had to wrestle it into the room, rather than destroying it with one simple incantation. He knew that, just as his no longer took the shape of a Dementor, Lupin's Boggart was no longer a silvery full moon.

He didn't know how long he stood there. Time didn't exist.

"_RIDDIKULUS_!"

Harry unglued his eyes from the Boggart long enough to see Snape bearing down on him, his face contorted with fury.

There was a _crack!_ and the Boggart stumbled, but it didn't change. It was still Sirius, still angry, and now one hand reached for Harry's throat.

"_RIDDIKULUS_!"

The Boggart stumbled again, and turned to look at Snape, its mouth curling in a sneer. Its hand was inches away from Harry now.

Snape reached him first, and pushed him out of the way; Harry sprawled on the floor.

Snape, now standing where Harry had stood, facing the Boggart, raised his wand one last time. He didn't say a word, but a blast so powerful that Harry threw up an arm to shield his face sent the Boggart flying back into the room from which it had escaped; its body came apart, dashed into a thousand pieces as thought it had been formed of sand; it was blasted through a wardrobe, and hit the far wall as nothing but a wisp of swirling air.

It was gone.

Harry stared. He couldn't stop staring at the place where it had vanished. There was nothing there; just a heap of sawdust that had been the wardrobe.

He probably would have laid there forever, staring at the wall, if not for the firm hand that grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and hauled him off the floor, holding him up so that he stood on tip-toes.

He was wrenched around so that he faced Snape, and behind him, looking just as furious and disbelieving, Lupin.

* * *

Harry sat in his bedroom.

The door was locked. He was locked in.

Snape had half dragged, half shoved him all the way there from the third floor. But that was after Lupin was done with him; Harry had lost all will to resist, after that.

He had tried to explain, but it was useless. He knew it was useless before he got more than a sentence out, and fell silent, letting the barrage of furious words wash over him. He had learned at the Dursleys that when someone was this angry with him, the only thing he could do was wait it out.

Of course they didn't believe him. No one ever did.

Snape thought Harry had done it specifically because mere minutes earlier Snape had told him not to. Lupin seemed to agree, and brought up Harry's offer to help with the ghoul and then wandering on the third floor earlier...

Harry lay down on the bed and shut his eyes tightly.

It was like the Boggart had been burned into the inside of his eyelids. He kept seeing it and the way it had stared at him; he saw it reaching for him over and over again.

And he couldn't help it - he had more questions.

Why hadn't the Boggart changed for Snape? Snape had been right there; that's what Boggarts do; it should have changed into something else. Something Snape feared.

Maybe Harry's fear had been stronger, because if anything, the Boggart that reached for Harry was worse than the one he had first encountered. Sirius' face, younger and healthier than the last time Harry saw him alive, somehow held more accusations that the skeletal post-Azkaban face the Boggart had assumed at first. He looked, more than ever before, like a man cut down in the prime of his life.

It was a long night.

* * *

Harry fully expected to spend the entire next day locked up, but shortly after dawn the door was unlocked and Lupin stuck his head in.

"Harry? Awake?"

Harry nodded from the bed. He was sitting, already dressed, with a book open in his lap, though he hadn't done more than stare blankly at the same page for the past half hour.

"Well, then..." Lupin paused, looking uncertain. "Come down to breakfast. We'll talk."

Harry followed him silently down to the kitchen.

"I may have... overreacted... last night," Lupin said when they were sitting at the table with tall glasses of iced pumpkin juice and plates of sweet rolls, fruit, and chocolate biscuits. "Mind you, you are not excused; that was a very foolish thing to have done. However, I was not feeling well and my reaction was out of proportion." He looked at Harry over the rim of his glass. "I dare say you got punished enough as soon as you opened that door."

Harry had 'I didn't open the door' on the tip of his tongue, but bit it back with great effort. It wouldn't do any good, and if Lupin was ready to move on, Harry could live with being blamed for something he didn't do. He was used to it. So, instead, he looked down at his plate and nodded.

"Let's consider it forgotten," Lupin said with a wave of his hand.

"Are you feeling better today?" Harry asked. He really did want to know.

"Much," Lupin said. "Although, I doubt it will last. The moon will be full the night after next."

Harry thought about bringing up the cellar, but changed his mind. He wasn't going to take the chance of starting another argument.

"Is Snape -"

"Professor Snape," Lupin corrected automatically.

"Professor Snape, then," Harry amended. "Where is he?"

"Left early this morning. He had to get more supplies for one of his potions, which suffered a setback..."

Harry had a nasty suspicion about what had caused the potion to be ruined. Snape must have gone to check on it following dinner, intending to take care of the Boggart afterward.

"Is he getting the supplies from Hogwarts?"

"I don't know. From his home, maybe."

Lupin didn't seem to want to talk about it - his voice took on a wary tone - so Harry changed the subject.

"Do you think Hedwig is all right? Ron said in his letter that he would send her back to me before they left. That was over a week ago."

Accustomed to being lied to and placated, he watched Lupin's expression closely. Lupin looked unconcerned.

"I'm sure she is all right. Owls, especially when you make a pet of them as you have of Hedwig, rarely stay away for long."

"But you don't think something could have happened to her?" Harry persisted. He had been having terrible thoughts about someone harming Hedwig to get their hands on a letter she may have been carrying for Harry.

"I doubt it."

Again, Harry had the feeling Lupin didn't want to talk about it. Sighing, he decided to let it go for the time being.

The finished their meal in silence.

"Have you found the books amusing enough?" Lupin asked as Harry helped him clean up.

"What? Oh," Harry grimaced as he remembered the two novels. "They're all right."

Lupin laughed. "A bit outdated, I imagine. I liked them well enough when I was your age."

Harry had a sudden though. "Do you know... I mean, did my dad like any books like that?"

The smile vanished from Lupin's face. Harry had somehow said the wrong thing again.

"I don't recall," Lupin said. "James didn't read much aside from what was assigned."

"Oh," Harry said. "How about my mum? I always imagine her being a bit like Hermione and Ginny combined. When she was in school, I mean."

Lupin seemed to think this over. "More like Ginny, I would say. She was smart, of course... yes, a lot like Hermione in that respect, but it came so naturally to her that she didn't spend much time revising." He looked at Harry and smiled wanly. "I don't recall any specific books she had read for pleasure. I'm sorry."

"That's okay," Harry mumbled. His throat was tight. "I just wonder sometimes."

"Of course you do," Lupin said, an old warmth - from a time before he had any reason to feel grudge against Harry - returning to his voice. "It's natural." He paused, contemplating Harry with a sort of intensity that didn't seem to fit with the subject of their conversation. "I imagine you would do anything to have your parents back. To belong to someone, I mean."

Harry gulped. Of course he would. To have his mum or dad back... how could he not want that?

Lupin sighed. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Harry managed to squeeze out around the lump in his throat.

"It's not," Lupin said, shaking his head. "You should have had a chance to grow up like a normal child. So many things... didn't work out. Some you aren't even aware of."

_Like Sirius_, Harry thought miserably. That had been his very last chance at a family.

Lupin seemed to shake himself and changed the subject.

"I think you need something to occupy you."

Harry looked at him blankly.

"It just so happens that I have a nearly complete list of subjects to be covered in Sixth Year N.E.W.T. level Defense Against the Dark Arts class. If you were so inclined, you could try to get some of the reading out of the way. Some of the theory behind Defense is quite complex, and while I'm sure you were at the top of your class - or near it - you may find the required reading difficult to keep up with when you have other classes as well."

That sounded reasonable enough, Harry supposed. "Sure, I'd like to take a look at it."

Lupin walked over to the dresser and removed a few sheets of parchment from the bottom drawer. He handed these to Harry.

**Confronting the Faceless**  
Chapter 1: Theory and Practice _An Introduction_  
. . . .

Beside each chapter, in Lupin's handwriting, were copious notes.

"Er... how come you're working on this?" Harry asked, looking up at Lupin curiously.

"Professor McGonagall asked me to take a look," Lupin said, "seeing how there has been so much inconsistency in the way the subject has been taught."

"Will she be the new Headmistress?" Harry asked hopefully.

Lupin's shoulders slumped a little. "I hope so... Yes, let's hope it will be so. She would be wonderful."

"Better than Umbridge," Harry said.

"Umbridge is not coming back to Hogwarts," Lupin said firmly. "She would have been gone sooner had certain facts..." Lupin's eyes seemed to dart toward Harry's hands - Harry looked down and saw that the light was catching the thin white scars on the back of his hand - before he went on. "She is facing an inquiry at the Ministry and... well, she will not be coming back."

"Good," Harry said, resisting the urge to pull his hand out of sight.

"As I was saying," Lupin said, "I have a good idea of the subjects to be covered in your class, and it couldn't hurt for you to get started on your reading."

"How will I get the textbook?" Harry asked.

"I will take care of that," Lupin said. "I'm sure either I or Severus will be in Diagon Alley tomorrow. We're running low on a few things."

"Great, then," Harry said. He couldn't get very enthusiastic about the prospect of studying a textbook, but perhaps it would help him pass the time and leave him with more free time once he got to Hogwarts.

"And now," Lupin said, "I think you better go back to your room." He dropped his voice. "Strictly speaking, I wasn't supposed to let you out."

Harry grinned.

* * *

Despite having to eat both lunch and dinner alone up in his bedroom, Harry felt it had been a good day. In any case, it was his first day at Grimmauld Place that he hadn't been yelled at for one thing or another.

Of course, being a prisoner in his bedroom made it hard to do anything worthy of being yelled at.

The next morning, Snape seemed to feel he had been punished enough - or, more likely, Lupin had convinced him - and Harry was allowed to take his meals in the kitchen again.

The only thing to mar his mood was the fact that Lupin did not show for either lunch or dinner, and the meals were rather grim as a result.

As soon as the dinner dishes had been cleared, Harry intended to leave the kitchen as quickly as he could.

"Just a moment, Potter."

Harry sighed. Now what?

Snape came a few steps closer - too close for Harry's comfort - and looked down at him with disapproval.

"I do not agree that this is the best method of keeping you occupied," he said, "and I doubt you will take advantage of this opportunity; however, I have purchased a textbook for your use."

He held out a slightly battered book; obviously second-hand.

Perhaps he caught Harry appraising it, because his lips thinned. "I do not approve of wasting money on new things when there is no need to do so. The book is perfectly serviceable, and you may as well begin to get used to not having money to waste on frivolous things."

Harry, who'd had his fill of tatty hand-me-downs thanks to the Dursleys, thought of his Gringotts vault filled with gold and didn't agree. Still, it didn't matter to him. He reached for the book. "Thank you."

Snape pulled the book out of reach.

"I suspect Lupin did not bother to set down any terms," he glared at Harry as if this omission was his fault. "There will be no unsupervised spellwork."

Harry nodded.

"If I hear of anyone or anything being hexed as a result of something you read in this book, you will dearly regret it."

Harry nodded again. Who would he hex, anyway?

Still glaring, Snape shoved the book into Harry's waiting hand. "I imagine you're quite satisfied," he sneered.

Harry had no idea what Snape was on about now. He worked on holding his tongue.

With a final menacing glare, Snape stalked out of the room, muttering angrily under his breath. "Werewolves at a school full of children... She would have to be mad."

Harry stood rooted to the floor.

He couldn't have heard right.

Snape couldn't have meant - ?

Lupin would have told him.

Wouldn't he have?

* * *

He didn't see Lupin until the next day, and he had no chance to speak to him over breakfast, with Snape there.

Lupin looked worn-down and gaunt, and barely ate anything. He kept rubbing his temples and the light seemed to hurt his eyes even after Snape dimmed all the lamps. Before Harry had finished eating, Snape had to help Lupin out of the room.

Harry poked at his corn flakes and wished he could follow them, but Snape had sent a glare directly at him as he and Lupin disappeared up the stairs, so he figured he better stay where he was.

Snape returned alone.

"Do you..." Harry began before he could stop himself. He reckoned he may as well finish. "Do you think Lupin's worse than usual?"

Snape put down the teacup he had just picked up and looked at him hard. "How astute of you to notice," he said scathingly.

Harry felt himself reddening. "I meant... worse than he usually is before the full moon."

Snape took a long sip of his tea. "I suppose he may be."

Harry had not been expecing Snape to give him a straight answer. For a brief moment Harry just gaped at him.

"Well what's wrong with him?" he finally managed.

"I couldn't possibly say," Snape said. He gave Harry another hard look. "Though I imagine stress has played a role."

Harry felt a twinge of guilt, but, after all, it had not been his fault he had been taken from the Dursleys and brought to where he could cause Lupin more stress.

"Can I ask you a question?" he asked. "Sir?"

Snape seemed to wait for him to go on, so Harry took that as assent.

"Why did you take me from the Dursleys?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Not bubbling over with gratitude, are you Potter?"

Harry scowled. "Thanks. I was just fine over there, you know. I expected to spend the whole summer."

"It was not up to you."

"I know it. It never is. I just wondered why." Under his breath, he added, "It's not as though anybody wants me here."

Snape didn't pretend not to have heard. "Someone wanting you - would that make a difference?"

"Of course," Harry said without needing to think about it. "It would make all the difference."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Really? Perhaps you had better give that some further thought."

Harry, whose thoughts immediately ran to Lupin and Sirius and the previous summer, didn't know what Snape was talking about.

After a moment, Snape took another sip of tea and leaned back in his chair.

Harry, too, relaxed somewhat, only then realizing that his knuckles had turned white where he had gripped the edge of the table.

"Can I ask another question, sir?"

Snape gave a brief nod.

"What's in the papers that you don't want me to know about?"

Snape's eyes narrowed. Harry broke eye contact very quickly.

"I would think," Snape said in a very deliberate tone, "that after the Boggart your curiosity would be somewhat... dampened."

Harry, still avoiding Snape's eyes, nodded. It had been. A little. "I still want to know."

Snape leaned forward over the table, bringing their faces closer and making it impossible for Harry to avoid looking at him.

"That's the problem with you, isn't it, Potter? Always wanting to know things you have no business knowing."

"It's my business if it's something about me," Harry said angrily. "If someone had just told me last year that Voldemort was trying to get me to the Ministry of Magic -"

Snape slammed his hand against the table, causing everything to rattle. "What? You would have sat in Gryffindor common room like a good little boy?"

Harry glared at him. "I would have if I'd known!"

"Yes," Snape said acidly, "you have such a spectacular track record for using information appropriately. It's stunning, really, that anyone would be reluctant to give you more of it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said, his stomach clenching.

Snape laughed.

"I don't," Harry said again. "If I'd known Voldemort could send visions into my head -"

"You were TOLD he could!" Snape snarled at him. "You were told over and over again, and what did you do? You did _nothing_. You put everyone's lives in danger because you were not going to be bothered with a little problem like the Dark Lord being able to possess you at will."

Harry's chair scraped the floor as he leaped up. "That's not true!"

"Of course it is. He was in and out of your head all year."

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!"

Snape waved his hand dismissively. "Believe whatever you want, Potter. The fact is, you wouldn't have known if someone was in your head, would you have, given your obstinate refusal to close your mind to intrusion."

"I did my best!" Harry said, remembering all the hours and energy wasted in Snape's office.

"Really?" Snape's eyebrow arched to match the curl of his lip. "You practiced clearing your mind every night? You put secret rooms and locked doors out of your thoughts? You _told someone_ when you began having visions?"

Harry turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

* * *

Alone in his bedroom with the door locked, it was a lot harder to rage against Snape's accusations. Doubt started creeping in.

He had told about the visions; one had saved Mr. Weasley's life. And Snape had found out about the dreams featuring the locked door, so Harry hadn't needed to tell anyone else.

All right, so maybe he hadn't put that locked door out of his thoughts. And maybe he hadn't practiced enough. Maybe it would have made a difference, or maybe he still wouldn't have made any progress. Snape hadn't managed to teach him anything, and it had been Snape who had cut short Harry's study of Occlumency.

But even that had been Harry's fault in part.

All right, so maybe a small part of what Snape said was true, but that still didn't address the real reason everything had gone wrong. If they'd told him _why_ he needed to learn Occlumency; if they'd told him _why_ Voldemort was sending him visions of that locked door...

And Harry couldn't quite forget that it was Snape he had spoken to last before making the worst series of mistakes of his life. Snape had failed to do anything that could have prevented it all.

And as for Voldemort possessing him all year... that was rubbish. Ginny had been possessed, and there had been clear signs. Harry hadn't experienced any blackouts or done anything he later didn't remember doing. Not only that, but Voldemort had tried to possess him at the Ministry of Magic, and even though Harry had suffered a short blackout as a result, there had been no mistaking what was happening. You just couldn't miss something like Voldemort being inside your head.

Could you?

Besides, Voldemort hadn't been able to possess him for long. Harry had the distinct feeling that something had gone terribly wrong for Voldemort the moment he had entered Harry's head.

He told this to Snape over lunch.

"You knew about the door at the Ministry of Magic."

"And I told you to put it out of your mind," Snape replied coldly.

"Voldemort got into my head just before he and Dumbledore dueled. I knew it was happening."

Snape looked annoyed. "Despite many attempts to instruct you, you still fail to understand subtle differences, Potter. Of course you would know if someone forced the whole of their consciousness inside your body. That is quite different from rummaging through your mind... or extending the connection just enough to see through your eyes."

"What do you mean, see through my eyes?" Harry demanded. "What for?"

Snape's mouth thinned into a line, and he looked as though he were considering his next words carefully. "Dumbledore believed... that it was possible - likely, even - that the connection between you could make it possible for a weak form of Legilimency to be performed through you."

"He..." Harry frowned. "He could have read someone's mind by looking at them... while I was looking at them?"

Snape looked even more annoyed; Harry almost expected another lecture about Legilimency not being synonymous with mind-reading. But all he said was, "Possibly."

Harry hesitated. Something clicked into place. "Is that why Dumbledore would never look at me? Never look directly at me, I mean?"

There was a long pause.

"Yes," Snape said finally. "It's possible that was his reasoning."

"But you don't _know_?"

"No."

"But..." Harry's thoughts were in complete disarray. He tried to pull together some meaning. "Dumbledore told me he could have taught me Occlumency himself. He must have been good at it. Why would he care if Voldemort tried to get into his head? He could keep him out!"

Snape huffed irritably. "Your understanding is faulty."

"Explain it to me again, then!"

Snape's eyes narrowed.

"Please," Harry added quickly, "sir."

Snape considered for a few moments. "The likeliest scenario is that an unexpected question posed at an ill-timed moment could have elicited an emotional response from Dumbledore. Such reactions are particularly difficult to keep in check, and thus a skilled Legilimens is able to glean information without the need to forcefully extract it from the subject's mind. As I have told you before, even a skilled Legilimens is unable to pull information out of another's mind as if reading an open book. However, if the right questions are asked, the subject's unintentional response is often enough."

"And he could do that," Harry said, feeling a little nauseous, "just by being near someone?"

"Legilimency does require eye contact in most cases; however, the fact that Dumbledore also chose to avoid being in your presence more than necessary suggests that he feared avoiding looking directly at you was insufficient."

"But why didn't someone just _tell_ me? I don't understand!"

Snape shook his head. "I have no way of knowing what Dumbledore's precise reasoning was. No doubt he felt you were unprepared to grasp the importance -"

"Well, we'll never know, will we?" Harry cut in angrily. "BECAUSE NO ONE EVER TELLS ME ANYTHING!"

The glare that Snape fixed on him caused Harry to slump back into his chair and look down at the floor.

"We were at war, Potter," Snape said, finally. "Information was not given out freely."

"We're not at war anymore," Harry said stubbornly. "And still no one tells me anything." He went on quickly before Snape could retort. "Look, I just want to know if my friends are all right, and what's happening at Hogwarts, that's all! I haven't had any news at all since school let out, and I'm stuck here -"

"I assure you," Snape said acidly, "that you would not be here if it could be in any way avoided."

"Then I want to know why it _couldn't_ be avoided!" Harry exclaimed. "That _proves_ something is going on and that it concerns me!"

"It does _not_ concern you." Snape was speaking in that slow, deliberate tone again, as though it could will Harry to accept his words without argument. "Unless, of course, you choose to stick your nose where it is not needed and does not belong. We all know how well that works out, don't we, Potter?"

Harry scowled. "I'm not sticking my nose in. I just want to know."

Snape stood up. "Go back to your room, Potter. This conversation is over." He swept his empty plate and cup off the table and dispatched them to the sink with a wave of his wand. "I have things to do." With that, he turned his back on Harry and began to fill a tray for Lupin.

Harry continued to scowl at Snape's back, but he knew it was useless.

He finished eating, but didn't leave the kitchen. He didn't think Snape would tell him anything else, but he couldn't help trying.

"Still here?" Snape asked sarcastically over his shoulder.

Harry didn't reply to that.

"Fine," Snape said. "Here -" He shoved the heavy tray into Harry's hands. "Be useful. Take that into the drawing room. I'm late as it is."

Harry followed Snape's quick glance at a clock above the stove.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"I am," Snape said, and didn't elaborate. "I should be back before the dinner hour. If not, you are to be in your bedroom before nine." His eyes bore into Harry's. "Need I remind you there is a full moon tonight?"

"I know," Harry said sullenly. "So what? He's taking his potion."

Snape's expression hardened. "In your bedroom before nine. Say it, Potter."

"I'll be in my bedroom by nine o'clock," Harry repeated in a monotone, feeling that it wasn't worth arguing. It wasn't as if there were a hundred ways to amuse himself at Grimmauld Place. He probably would have gone to his room after dinner anyway.

"See that you are," Snape said, and went ahead of Harry upstairs.

Lupin was in the drawing room when Harry came in with the tray. He was lying on a low couch, a book face-down on his chest. His eyes were closed.

Harry wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want to wake Lupin if he was sleeping; Lupin looked terrible and could probably use all the rest he could get.

He put the tray down as quietly as he could on a table next to the couch, and started to back away.

Lupin's eyes fluttered open and slowly focused. "Harry?"

"I, uh, brought your lunch," Harry said. "Snape's gone. He said he had something to do but he wouldn't say what."

"_Professor_ Snape," Lupin admonished, sitting up with a soft groan. "Thank you, Harry. I did intend to come down, but somehow I only made it to this couch..." He smiled a little sadly.

Harry sat down on the edge of a chair. There were a few things he wanted to ask Lupin, but he wasn't sure now was a good time to do so.

Lupin looked at him over the rim of his cup. He seemed to guess what Harry was thinking.

"Was there something you wanted to ask me, Harry?"

Harry nodded.

"Go on," Lupin prompted. "I can see something is bothering you."

"You look terrible," Harry blurted out. He felt himself reddening. "I mean... I know it's the full moon, but..."

Lupin bit into a piece of bread and chewed slowly, looking thoughtful. "Yes, it has been worse than usual. Severus is making another potion, which helps a great deal, but I missed a few doses this month..." His voice trailed off.

Harry felt guilty. He remembered the night of the Boggart and the ruined potion. He didn't think it was a stretch to imagine a connection.

"Anyway," Lupin continued, "you needn't worry too much on my behalf. Was that all you wanted to ask?"

Harry's mind raced for a moment - there were quite a few questions that he was holding back. "Is it true you will be teaching at Hogwarts?"

Lupin looked started. "Where did you hear that?"

"Snape said something about it," Harry said. Remembering Snape's exact words, he plunged on, "Something about werewolves at a school full of children, and a 'she' who was mad to allow it. Does that mean Professor McGonagall will be Headmistress?"

Lupin ran a hand through his hair. "Well, I... I don't think it's certain, but... possible."

"Then it's true," Harry said happily. "You'll be back!"

Lupin blinked, his brow creased in a half-frown. "Yes, it's possible."

"I'm glad," Harry said. "You were the best teacher we had."

"That... is not saying much," Lupin said, still frowning.

"Fine, then," Harry said. "The only decent teacher we've ever had. How's that?"

Lupin smiled weakly. "More accurate, in any case."

They were silent for a few minutes, while Lupin picked at his food and Harry wondered if more questions would dampen the mood. He really would be wholeheartedly thrilled if Lupin returned to Hogwarts. It just might be the only thing he had to look forward to.

"Was there something else?" Lupin asked.

Harry nodded. "About a hundred things, but you don't want to hear it, do you? We'll just argue again." He paused. "Snape told me some things about Voldemort. How he could get into my head all year and I didn't know about it."

Lupin stiffened, his face darkening. "I'm not sure that was appropriate."

"Well, it's better than not telling me anything!" Harry said. "I mean, at least it explains some things. I'd rather know." He looked Lupin in the eyes. "There are a lot of things that I really, really want to know. Maybe you don't think I should know them, but that doesn't help me to stop wanting to know."

Lupin seemed to consider this, which was more than Harry had expected. "I imagine it is hard."

Harry sighed. He doubted Lupin could imagine it. "I want to know if Ron and Hermione are all right."

"Yes, they are," Lupin said.

"Would you know?"

"Yes."

"So..." Harry frowned. "You've been in contact with them?"

"As I've told you before, the Order is still quite active. There are still threats, and we are still dealing with them. Or, I should say," Lupin said, bitterly, "the others are. I have not been very useful in that regard. Hermione's family is being monitored, and are not considered to be in any danger. The Weasleys have been in contact."

"From Egypt?"

"Yes," Lupin said. He seemed to be avoiding Harry's eyes.

"I know they're not," Harry told him. "Ron wouldn't have been allowed to say so in a letter. They're in hiding."

Lupin pursed his lips and didn't reply.

"Fine," Harry muttered. He didn't need Lupin to say anything; he had already worked it out for himself. "I'm worried about Hedwig."

"I told you not to be. I'm sure she'll turn up."

But Harry wasn't satisfied with that. Lupin couldn't know unless he had seen Hedwig, and if he had seen her, then he was deliberately keeping her, or information about her, from Harry. Harry wasn't sure which of the two possibilities upset him more.

"I want to know if Hogwarts is definitely going to be open in September, and that I'm definitely going to be allowed back."

"Of course it will be," Lupin said. His brows knitted together. "And of course you are. What in the world have you been thinking, Harry?"

"You said they couldn't find a new Head, and that it was closed," Harry reminded him. "I figured the Ministry was going to meddle."

"And it will," Lupin said, looking unhappy about it. "Dumbledore had a virtually free reign, but that won't be the case for the person appointed as his replacement. And as I've told you, nothing is certain, and there has been some question about the best person for the job. However, don't let that concern you. It's politics; it will all work itself out for better or worse. Hogwarts _will_ reopen."

That did make Harry feel a little better. No matter how badly things went, he would still rather be at Hogwarts than anywhere else.

He plunged on.

"I want to know what the prophesy was about." The damned little glass ball had cost him so much; he wanted to know what was so special about it. "The one Voldemort wanted so badly."

Lupin smiled wanly. "I'm afraid I don't know, and I doubt there is anyone left alive who does. Otherwise, why would Voldemort have needed you to get it for him? The only people who could remove it were the two it concerned; that is, you and Voldemort, and I believe Dumbledore was the only one who had heard the whole thing."

"But it was about _me_?"

Lupin hesitated, but nodded. "I believe it had something to do with why he wanted to kill you, Harry, but I don't know more than that, and even that is purely speculation. We will never know now. No other record exists."

"But," Harry said, frowning, "if Voldemort tried to kill me because of the prophesy, he must have known what it said. And if he knew... why did he want it?"

"I don't know, Harry. Perhaps he only knew it existed, and that it concerned a particular child. He was extremely paranoid, and he was known for reacting to lesser threats than that."

Harry nodded, but was not completely satisfied.

"I want to know why I couldn't stay at the Dursleys. Was I in danger there?"

He thought Lupin was not going to answer him, but after a moment Lupin nodded. "Not in danger of the kind you must be thinking of, perhaps, but... vulnerable. Yes, that's the best way to put it. The Order no longer had the resources to ensure your safety, and..."

"And what?"

Lupin shook his head. "It seemed best, that's all."

But Harry knew that wasn't all. There was something in the way Lupin spoke that made him think there was something bigger there.

"But, why -"

"I'm afraid I'm feeling a bit tired, Harry," Lupin interrupted. He had pushed away the tray and leaned back against the cushions. "Perhaps another time."

Harry sighed. That wasn't even a fraction of what he wanted to ask, and some of Lupin's answers had been less than satisfying.

"If you like," Lupin said, "there are some old magazines over on that shelf by the window. Vintage. Might be of interest to you."

Harry went over to the shelf and picked one up. It was very dog-eared and yellowed, but it was a Quidditch magazine, and he wasn't going to complain about it being old.

"Thanks," he said. "This is really great."

"I found them in the back of a cupboard and thought you might like them. By the way, has Severus given you your Defense textbook?"

"Yes," Harry said. "Last night. I haven't had a chance to look at it yet. But, thank you."

"If you run into anything you don't understand, you're welcome to ask me."

"I will."

Harry decided not to go upstairs. Part of him hoped Lupin might be willing to answer a few more questions after he rested for a bit. Part of him, he admitted, just wanted to defy Snape, who seemed to think Harry should spend all his time shut up in his tiny bedroom.

He made himself comfortable in one of the armchairs and flipped slowly through a magazine. It wasn't as flashy as some of the ones he'd read with Ron, but it was still more interesting than any of the other reading material Harry had access to.

It was getting quite late, he knew. Lupin was dozing. Harry wondered if Snape would be back by the time it got close to sunset, or if he would have to wake Lupin up. He still didn't see why Lupin shouldn't spend the night in one of the bedrooms, where he would surely be more comfortable, but he knew Lupin wouldn't be happy with him if he failed to wake him in time.

It turned out that he needn't have worried about it. The sky outside the window had darkened only slightly, with a tint of gold and red, when the front door opened and then slammed shut.

Lupin's eyes snapped open. He sat up, stretching. "What time is it?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "I don't have a watch. Snape's back, though, I think."

Snape was back. He came striding into the drawing room a few moments later, carrying a number of items in the crook of his arm and a steaming goblet in the other hand.

"Drink up, Lupin," he said, without bothering with any pleasantries.

Lupin took the goblet and drained it, grimacing.

"Upstairs, Potter," Snape said, sparing only a short glance in Harry's direction.

Harry left, but half way up the stairs remembered that he had left the magazines. He went back.

Snape and Lupin were no longer in the drawing room. Harry could hear their muffled voices coming from a small room off to the side. Harry thought they sounded angry.

He moved closer to the door, but he couldn't make out what they were saying over an odd kind of buzzing that filled his ears the closer he got. He thought there might be a silencing spell on the room - it was easier to do one on a small space than a large one like the drawing room, and it would explain why they had gone in.

He went over to the shelf, but as he was about to gather up the magazines he noticed that the things Snape had been carrying were lying in a heap in one of the armchairs. Among them were several envelopes, all made of heavy yellowish parchment except for one, which was made of plain white paper.

Harry stared at it. Of course, a lot of people might be using a plain envelope, but it couldn't hurt, surely, just to see whom it was for.

He picked it up.

**Harry  
c/o S. Snape  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

Care of S. Snape? Harry frowned, not understanding.

The letter was from Hermione; he recognized her handwriting where the original address, Number four, Privet Drive, has been crossed out. She clearly wasn't writing to him care of Snape. Someone had intercepted the letter and forwarded it.

But why to Snape?

He was still holding the envelope in his hand, puzzling it out, when Snape and Lupin returned.

They looked equally angry to see him with it, before Lupin forced his expression into something more resembling mild disapproval.

"I'll take that, Harry," he said, holding out his hand.

"It's from Hermione," Harry said, not wanting to part with it even temporarily. "It's for me."

The letter flew out of his hand, his fingers suddenly grasping air, and was caught by Snape.

"I do believe it was addressed to me, Potter. Whether you get to have it is therefore up to me."

Harry glared at him, furious. "It was addressed to me! I don't know why they sent it to Hogwarts, but Hermione was writing to ME!"

"Severus," Lupin said quietly, "it doesn't matter now. He's -"

"I don't care, Lupin," Snape interrupted. "I will not reward this sort of behavior. If he gets the letter at all, it will be at my say so."

Lupin looked at Harry and frowned.

Harry was breathing very hard, finding his temper almost impossible to control now. He wanted to rip the letter out of Snape's hand. Snape had no right to take Hermione's letter, or hold it hostage.

"I want my letter," he said, his teeth grinding.

Snape folded the letter in half and slid it into his pocket, all the while looking at Harry as though he dared him to say another word.

"I WANT MY LETTER," Harry repeated.

"Harry -" Lupin began.

"I WANT MY LETTER!"

"Go to your room, Potter," Snape said, very quietly but with a deadly tone. "Now."

Harry stood there, shaking with fury, fists clenched, and he didn't move.

Snape's narrowed eyes bore into his. "Obey me, Potter."

Harry didn't move; the unfairness of the situation - with Lupin standing right there and not saying a word - was beyond his ability to bear. He rounded on Lupin, lashing out because Lupin's lack of support was worse than anything Snape could do to him.

"Are you going to let him do this? Why are you just standing there?"

Lupin spoke softly, but the anger flashing in his eyes was frightening. "Do what Professor Snape tells you. We will discuss this later."

"We can discuss this RIGHT NOW!" Harry snarled, completely losing it. "I want to know why he's living in Sirius' house - MY house - and why MY letters are going to him."

Lupin didn't answer him. He looked apprehensively at Snape, and Harry's eyes followed until he, too, was watching a very grim expression form on Snape's face.

"Because, Potter," Snape said, his low, deadly voice raising the hairs on the back of Harry's neck, "I am your legal guardian. Everything you own - this house, any letters you may receive - belongs to me."

There was absolute silence after this statement.

Harry, who had just a moment earlier been ready to do battle, now felt like his insides had turned into slush. All that was left of his storm of rage was a kind of howling wind filling his ears.

It couldn't be true, of course. Lupin was standing there, looking like he was bracing himself for an explosion, but he didn't contradict Snape - what did that mean? Because it couldn't be true.

"What happens to you from this moment on," Snape continued, "is likewise for me to decide. You will remove yourself from my sight, and stay in your room until such a time as you can behave yourself properly." He paused. "I realize that may take years."

"You're lying," Harry said, but instead of coming out forcefully, the words hung limply in the air like deflated balloons. He raised his voice. "You're lying!"

Snape took a step toward him, looking as though he meant to grab him and shake him, but it was Lupin who spoke.

His face ashen and his lips pulled back in a snarl, one hand on Snape's arm to stop him from advancing, he turned on Harry.

"FOR ONCE, WILL YOU JUST DO WHAT YOU'RE TOLD?"


	5. Chapter 5

Afterwards, Harry wasn't really sure how he got to his room. He remembered fleeing from the drawing room, stumbling on the stairs... somehow finding the right door. There, he had thrown himself on his bed and smothered his head with the pillow, wanting to block out everything, including his own thoughts.

_Especially_ his own thoughts.

Which was impossible, of course.

What did it all mean? Why would anyone make Snape his guardian? Harry just didn't believe it. He refused to _let_ himself believe it. There couldn't possibly be any explanation good enough.

He couldn't wrap his mind around it.

Snape.

His guardian.

It was impossible.

He couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of calamity had forced this to come about. Snape had to be the last person in the wizarding world to want to be Harry's guardian.

Even ignoring the fact that Snape hated him - had _always_ hated him - how could they make a Death Eater his guardian? How could anyone even _think_ of it?

With those awful thoughts still running through his brain and Lupin's angry words echoing in his ears, Harry fell into a fitful sleep, his head still buried under the pillow.

* * *

It was still early when he woke again; the sky hadn't completely darkened yet. His restless sleep had been cut short by another nightmare.

He couldn't get back to sleep. He sat in bed, sweaty and a little shaky.

Somehow, he managed to push aside all other thoughts except one.

He wanted Hermione's letter.

But Snape had it, and Harry didn't know how to get it from him.

Belatedly, he thought that perhaps he had acted stupidly. He should have handed the letter to Lupin. Lupin would have given it to him, eventually. Snape, on the other hand... Harry didn't know what Snape would do.

At the same time, part of him couldn't help wishing he had ripped the letter open immediately and read it. He would have been in as much trouble, and at least he wouldn't have his current problem.

He wanted that letter.

The helplessness was awful. He didn't see any way he could ask Snape for it; Snape wouldn't just give it to him, he knew perfectly well.

Neither would Lupin. Harry considered - and immediately dismissed - the idea of asking Lupin to get the letter from Snape. The unconcealed rage in Lupin's eyes was burned into Harry's brain.

After a while, he got out of bed and dressed.

Having nothing else to do, he took out his photo album and flipped it open.

He had looked at each picture so many times that he felt he knew them by heart, but of course, these were wizard photographs, and their subjects moved in and out of the frames. Harry never knew who might come into view in the background.

He was looking for Sirius this time.

Besides the wedding photograph, there were several that Sirius could sometimes be seen in. In a Christmas photo he was behind the tree, hanging up a glass ornament. A stag, Harry thought it was, but it was hard to tell in the grainy picture. In a picture taken by the lake at Hogwarts, Sirius could be spotted reflected in the still water when James moved to one side of the frame and cast a shadow across the edge of the lake. Sirius seemed to be dozing, sprawled on the ground on top of his spread-out cloak.

Sometimes looking at the picture made him feel a little bit better, but mostly it just made him ache with loneliness and guilt. He didn't know why he kept looking.

He slammed the album shut and pushed it away from him. Sometimes, all the faces seemed to be looking back at him accusingly out of their pictures, and they were doing it now.

He leaned against the side of his bed, the floor ice cold under him and the bedframe digging into his spine. He drew up his knees and laid his head on top.

He didn't cry; he rarely did, because it did no good. He just shut his eyes and let himself drift.

* * *

When he next raised his head, it was dawn.

The grimy window didn't let in much light, but out of it he could see a strip of sky, and it was getting paler. He wished he had his watch, but he'd taken it off once while scrubbing the kitchen floor and Dudley had crushed it under his heel.

He wondered if he was allowed out of his room, and then recklessly decided he didn't care. They could yell at him some more if they wanted to, but he wasn't going to just sit there.

Besides, he hadn't had dinner the previous night, and they had no right to starve him. It was too much like the Dursleys.

He left the room and went down to the kitchen.

Lupin was already there, alone, sipping tea and looking like death warmed over. There were fresh scratch marks on his arms, barely concealed by the sleeves of his ill-fitting robes.

"Good morning," Harry said tentatively.

Lupin made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a huff.

"I wasn't sure if I was allowed out yet."

Lupin spoke without looking at him. "If I were you, I would take your breakfast upstairs before Severus comes down."

Harry nodded glumly.

He filled a bowl with watery, barely hot porridge, clearly re-warmed from the previous morning, and buttered a piece of toast.

He turned to go.

"Take some jam," Lupin said without any expression in his voice.

"Thanks," Harry said, spooning some into his porridge.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Lupin said, still tonelessly. His eyes were closed. "It was an inappropriate response."

Harry didn't know what to say. He settled for, "It wasn't your fault," which was neither how he felt nor what he really meant to say, since it inevitably led to whose fault it really was. "If Snape hadn't -"

Lupin didn't let him finish. "No, Harry. Professor Snape may have overreacted, but I'm afraid I must side with him."

_Like you did last night_, Harry thought bitterly. "I _know_ it was mostly my fault, but I'd been _waiting_ for a letter, and it was _right there_."

"That's not an excuse."

Harry sighed. He supposed Lupin was looking for an apology. "Sorry."

Lupin looked disbelieving. Worse, he looked disappointed. Harry didn't know why that still had the power to hurt so much.

"I _am_," he insisted. "But there isn't anything I can do now. It's not like Snape is really going to give the letter to me."

Lupin was still looking disapprovingly at him, and Harry wanted to turn around and walk out of the kitchen, but didn't, because another part of him wanted Lupin to stop being on Snape's side and be on his side, and help him fix this.

"He's... just going to keep it, isn't he? Just to show me I can't do anything about it."

Lupin said nothing. There was a long silence.

"Was he lying?" Harry asked, even though he hadn't meant to bring it up at all. To his absolute horror, he felt pressure building behind his eyes. He was afraid to say another word, in case it came out wobbly.

"No," Lupin said. "He wasn't lying."

Somehow, hearing it from Lupin made it that much worse.

"_Why_?"

"At this time I'm not able to say anything more about it," Lupin said, turning away from him and picking up his teacup.

Harry licked his parched lips. He could see Lupin didn't intend to say any more, but Harry simply couldn't just give up.

"Is there any chance he'll give me Hermione's letter? Isn't there anything you could do? Please?"

Lupin shook his head. "'fraid I can't help you," he said in a clipped tone. "Honestly, at fifteen - almost sixteen now - you should know how to make things right."

"Well I don't!" Harry said hotly, his anger flaring up suddenly in spite of himself. Where did Lupin suppose he would have learned these skills? From the Dursleys? "So I would appreciate a _little_ help, really!"

Lupin drew in a breath, and for a moment Harry was afraid there was going to be more yelling, but after a long moment Lupin let the air out and spoke in an almost calm tone.

"All you can really be expected to do is to act like a decent human being," he said, grating on Harry's raw nerves by echoing Snape. "If you know you're at fault, you need to make it right - and I don't believe that you truly don't know what that means, Harry - even if there isn't anything in it for you."

Harry nodded, but felt very dissatisfied. That wasn't much help; Lupin was just saying he had to apologize and was admitting that it wouldn't help with Snape.

"I'll tell you what," Lupin continued. "I will speak to him over breakfast. Find me around lunch time and I will let you know if there's any use hoping for that letter back. Mind, it shouldn't make a difference in what you know you have to do."

Harry considered. Well, it was something, anyway. "Thanks."

"I'm not going to ask him to change his mind, you understand."

Harry nodded, afraid to speak and give something away by his tone.

"Well... you'd best go up, then," Lupin said.

Harry left, and just in time; only minutes after he had shut his bedroom door, he heard Snape heading down to breakfast.

He ate alone, and everything tasted of nothing.

* * *

"Look," Lupin said, "I'm not saying I agree with him on everything, but having been your teacher in the past, I do believe he has a valid grievance with the way you act toward your elders."

Harry scowled into his empty teacup.

"I'm sure it's a matter of not realizing how you sound," Lupin continued. "You really can be quite rude. Right now, my advice is to show that you are willing to put some effort into acting properly... and appropriately."

"That's it?" Harry asked, a little sullenly. It didn't sound very helpful.

"That's it," Lupin said firmly, frowning at him. "Of course sincerity always helps, but I can't tell you how to feel. If and when you decide to speak to Professor Snape, I suggest you keep your temper, whatever you do."

Harry considered it. There didn't seem to be any way around it, really. If he ever wanted that letter back, that is. If it wasn't for that, he would be content to never willingly speak to Snape again.

Now that he was resigned to it, he wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.

"When do you think would be a good time?"

"To speak with him?"

Harry nodded.

Lupin eyed him warily. "I think you should spend some time thinking about what you want to say, and how to best say it. He is working in the library again, and will be all afternoon. I don't think any of the potions are volatile, so you could - _very unobtrusively_ - see if he has time to speak with you."

Harry dismissed the idea of thinking out his apology. An entire year worth of thinking couldn't make him sorry for hating Snape.

"Thanks."

Lupin leaned back in his chair and regarded Harry for a moment. "I did warn you I wouldn't get the letter for you, Harry. This is something I feel you need to do for yourself."

"I get it," Harry said, getting up. "It's fine."

It wasn't, of course.

"Good luck," Lupin said.

Harry nodded glumly and headed upstairs.

By the time he was walking up to the library door his feet were dragging.

He really didn't want to do this. _Really_.

He was certain it wouldn't even do any good. Lupin always did seem to think better of Snape than Snape deserved. More likely Snape would just use the opportunity to berate him.

"Don't lose your temper," he muttered to himself, stopping in front of the door. "Right."

He raised his hand, sighed heavily in resignation, and knocked.

Snape kept him waiting. Harry heard papers shuffling and something heavy being moved, and then a long moment of silence before Snape's footsteps could be heard approaching the door. Harry stepped back.

"Yes, Potter?" Snape asked, having yanked the door open. He held one hand on the edge, clearly ready to slam it shut again if he didn't like what Harry had to say.

"I... uh..." Harry hadn't reckoned on having this conversation out in the hallway. "Can I come in?"

One of Snape's eyebrows lifted almost imperceptibly as he eyed Harry. "What could you possibly have to say to me that requires you to enter a room you were expressly barred from?"

That was news to Harry. All Lupin had ever said was that Snape was using the library and Harry might want to give it a wide berth, which Harry just took as good advice.

"I came to apologize, all right?" He tried not to sound like he was gritting his teeth, which he was.

"The faultless Harry Potter has come to... apologize?"

Harry was forced to grit his teeth again. "Yes. Sir."

Snape stepped back to leave enough of the doorway clear for Harry to pass. His tone was still one of taunting disbelief. "Let's hear what you have to say, then."

Harry walked in, all the while trying to get the better of his temper. Less that a minute with Snape and he already felt like exploding.

He couldn't help having a look around.

A long table took up most of the space along the back wall, and on it were piled potions ingredients of all kinds. Two small cauldrons were simmering over a low flame, and another, larger one, was on its side on the floor, caked with yellowish grime and ready to be scoured.

"Had a good look?"

Harry jerked around, realizing that Snape had shut the door and was staring at him maliciously.

"Er..."

"I have work to do, Potter, unlike some people. Get it out, whatever it is, and then leave."

Harry drew in a breath and tried to unclench his jaws.

"I'm very sorry about the way I acted."

Snape stared at him without any change of expression.

"Sir," Harry added.

"And in what way did you act, Potter?"

"I acted like a spoiled brat who expects to get anything he wants." There, that should be good. He was betting it would please Snape to have Harry agree with something he himself always said.

But Snape didn't look at all pleased. "And I suppose now that you've made your 'apology' you expect to get the letter?"

He was looking into Harry's eyes, and Harry tried to both keep his mind blank and to look sincere at the same time. He didn't think he achieved either.

"No, I didn't expect it, actually. But you told me to start acting properly, and I thought it was proper to apologize for my inappropriate behavior."

Snape snorted. "Lupin told you to say that. You would never have thought of that on your own - you think nothing of the sort."

Harry _hadn't_ expected to get the letter back just for apologizing. He had to remind himself of that fact.

"All right, yes, he did, but I thought if I did apologize, and while I was here, I could ask you what _you_ think I need to do to get Hermione's letter back from you. Sir."

He thought that was clever, even though it had been excruciatingly hard to say. Now Snape would be forced to consider giving the letter to him, which Harry was sure wouldn't have entered his mind before.

Unfortunately, Snape refused to be baited.

"I don't need anything from you, Potter," he said. "The best thing you could do would be what I already told you to do - remove yourself from my sight."

"But..."

"You're thinking that won't get you what you're after," Snape said, raising an eyebrow. "And you're right, of course. It won't. Everything is always about _you_, isn't it, Potter?"

He started to pull the door open, obviously considering the conversation over.

"I could help you with your work!" Harry blurted out desperately.

He didn't know what made him say it. It had just popped into his head and popped out of his mouth before he could think.

Snape looked disgusted. "I don't need your kind of help. You couldn't even manage an 'Acceptable' on your Potions O.W.L.."

"W-what?" Harry said, startled. "How do you know that?"

"Because," Snape said scathingly, "professors get the results before students do, Potter. We need them to prepare for the next year's classes, given that the number of students accepted to N.E.W.T. level can vary from year to year."

"Oh," Harry said. He felt very deflated. He had known he hadn't done well, of course. Not nearly at the level to be considered good enough by Snape. He had hoped he would scrape an 'Exceeds Expectations', and McGonagall might intervene for him. She had said she would. But if he hadn't passed at all... "Oh."

"Don't tell me," Snape said gratingly. "You're disappointed we won't have another year together. You will miss making a mess of my classroom and having the opportunity to look fashionably incompetent in front of your friends."

"What?" Harry sputtered. "I never did that!"

Snape's expression went very cold.

"I mean..." Harry said quickly, reigning himself in. "I am disappointed I didn't get at least an Exceeds Expectations. I thought I did better. Sir."

Snape didn't deign that worthy of a reply.

"Anyway," Harry said, half-heartedly giving it one last try, "I'm good enough to scrub cauldrons and peel Shrivelfigs... and stuff."

There was a very long moment of silence, while Harry examined the scuffed-up floor and felt Snape's eyes examining him.

"Yes, I suppose you are."

Harry looked up in disbelief.

"And I suppose," Snape continued, "that a certain amount and quality of work on your part might predispose me to believing you once you are ready to make a _sincere_ apology."

Harry felt a stab of anger, and quickly suppressed it. He could apologize again, if another go at it might produce Hermione's letter.

Still, it was hard to say it. "Thank you, sir. What should I do?"

Snape looked at his work table, considering. "The large cauldron must be scrubbed thoroughly - no magic. There is a bucket of green worms - those need to be diced, six sections per each. Any mistakes go in the jar next to the cutting board. And there _are_ Shrivelfigs. Peeled and sliced into half-inch-thick slivers."

Harry nodded and started toward the table, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Snape's mouth thinning in anger. It took a moment to think why.

"Er... thank you, sir," he said, trying not to choke on the words. "I'll get right to work."

That had been much, much harder than he would have thought.

"I expect absolute quiet," Snape warned.

"Yes, sir."

"And don't touch anything."

"Yes, sir." He would have to touch what he was working on, of course. Leave it to Snape to set impossible rules.

With an irritable 'Hrmph,' Snape strode over to the table and began measuring out ingredients, which he stirred into one of the cauldrons, completely ignoring Harry.

That was fine with Harry. He had already exhausted a good deal of his nerves, and having to speak to Snape again just then might have caused him to say something unfortunate.

He scrubbed. Scrubbing cauldrons was certainly not his favorite activity, but it was similar to scrubbing floors and windows. Once his arm went from aching to numb, it wasn't so bad.

The worms were disgusting. Small, green, and squishy, they wiggled and curled when he tried to chop them into even pieces. The large jar filled quickly with bits that weren't the right size, while only a few made it into a small silver dish.

"For heaven's sake, Potter," Snape said crossly, looking up from a book, "did you learn nothing in five years of Potions?"

Harry let go of an especially wriggly worm and huffed in frustration. "Apparently not, sir."

"Use the clamps to hold down both ends," Snape said, and Harry only then noticed two small wooden objects, which did indeed look like clamps, lying next to the jar.

"Oh."

He got through the worms and started on the Shrivelfigs.

"I only need four," Snape said as Harry was about to take a fifth. "They don't keep well once peeled. You will do the rest tomorrow."

Harry put the Shrivelfig down. "Yes, sir."

"Clean up and go."

Harry's shoulders slumped. Well, he _hadn't_ expected Snape to hand over the letter after getting only a few hours of labor out of Harry. Still, that meant he wouldn't get the letter until the next day at the very earliest, and most likely not then. If at all. Snape hadn't actually promised. He'd only said it might make a difference when Harry made another apology.

He scrubbed the table clean of Shrivelfig juice and cleaned off the knife he had used.

He tried to think of something to say, so as not to just walk out without another word.

"Er... see you at dinner, sir."

Snape didn't say anything in return, but nodded curtly, and Harry knew that was the best he could expect. He left.

He spent the next twenty minutes washing stains off his fingers, then headed down to the kitchen. He wanted to see if Lupin needed any help with dinner. Not because he wanted to do more work, or because he thought Lupin was likely to forgive him if he was useful, but Lupin had looked very tired the last time Harry had seen him.

"Can I help?" he asked when he saw Lupin chopping vegetables for what looked like some kind of soup.

"I have it covered." Lupin didn't look up, and didn't sound very welcoming.

"I can set the table," Harry persisted.

"You don't need to ask."

Harry set the table.

"I apologized to Professor Snape," he said when he had finished.

Lupin frowned.

"He put me to work for him. Tomorrow, too."

Lupin put down the knife and looked at him, finally. "It might do you some good to have something to do."

"I don't mind," Harry said, lying. He didn't care if afternoon had passed faster than usual with something, even if it was something unpleasant, to do. "But... he told me I didn't pass Potions."

Lupin frowned again.

"I needed an 'Outstanding' to get into his N.E.W.T.s class," Harry continued, for some reason unable to stop himself. Lupin didn't care, clearly. Maybe Harry needed to get it out, whether anyone cared or not. "But I thought if I got an 'Exceeds Expectations' McGonagall would help me -"

Lupin cut him off. "You can't rely on others to pull strings for you. If you didn't score high enough, the decision is up to Professor Snape."

"I know," Harry said irritably. "That isn't what I meant..."

But, of course, that had been what he had meant. He had counted on McGonagall to change Snape's mind because he couldn't himself.

"Anyway, I didn't pass," he said. "Not even an 'Acceptable'."

Lupin had returned to the cutting board and didn't reply.

Harry sat silently for a while, watching him. Lupin held himself stiffly, like he might be in pain.

"I really am sorry for the way I acted," Harry said. And it was even close to being true this time.

He thought Lupin would ignore him again, but after a moment Lupin rubbed his forehead and said, "Let's just forget it happened, Harry. We both said rash, unthoughtful things, and they're hard to take back... Let's just forget it happened."

Harry knew that would be impossible to do, but he nodded quickly. "Let's."

"You can fill that pot over there with water."

Harry filled it and lugged it over to the stove.

He watched Lupin for a while.

"Isn't there anything you can do about those scratches?" he asked. They looked like they would be painful, and Lupin was favoring his left wrist.

Lupin looked down at his left arm, which was particularly torn up, as though noticing it for the first time. "Not much, but Severus will have something for me."

Harry wondered if any of the potions he had watched Snape brewing had been for Lupin. He certainly looked like he could use all of them.

"I need flour," Lupin said after a few minutes. "It's in the cupboard on your right."

"Sure," Harry said, and turned - "Er..."

"Problem?"

Harry blinked. It had suddenly hit him just what it was that had been nagging at the back of his mind since he'd arrived at Grimmauld Place.

"That's Kreacher's room, isn't it?"

"Not anymore," Lupin said. His lips tightened into a thin line.

"Where is he?" Harry asked, feeling old anger stirring inside him. How he could have forgotten, he did not know.

"Gone," Lupin said curtly. "Relocated by the Office of House-Elf Relocation. He wasn't bound to the house, and you are not a Black."

"Oh," Harry said. He hoped Kreacher's new family deserved him... and vice versa.

His hand still shook slightly as he pulled the cupboard door open.

All of Kreacher's things were gone. The boiler was partly hidden behind a checkered curtain and a new row of shelves.

He got the flour and shut the door with relief.

He could see that Lupin, though he hadn't turned around or stopped what he was doing, was watching him out of the corner of his eye.

"Can I do anything else?" Harry asked, putting the bag of flour down on the counter.

"No. You might as well go upstairs and wash up and change," Lupin said. "Your shirt is foul."

Harry looked down and saw that the front of his shirt was streaked with pale green - worm guts - and had a dark ring across his stomach where he had leaned over the cauldron. "Sorry. I didn't notice."

"Just go change," Lupin said. "You have plenty of time before dinner."

Harry went upstairs, passing Snape on the way up. Snape was carrying a glass goblet with red, bubbling liquid, and didn't acknowledge Harry, who hugged the wall to avoid brushing against him.

Up in his room, he changed quickly and scrubbed his hands again.

He couldn't help thinking how likely it was that Snape and Lupin were discussing him right at that very moment. He would give a lot to hear what Snape had to say about their afternoon together.

Maybe...

He quickly squashed the thought. He was in enough trouble as it was; he didn't need to get caught listening at doors.

Just the same, he went down to the kitchen rather sooner than he intended.

He was half-way down the last flight of stairs when he distinctly heard Snape's voice.

"Better?"

There was a contented sort of "Mmmm..." in reply.

"Come up to my room later tonight. You really have done a job on yourself this time."

Harry frowned. He had stopped, despite his intentions not to allow himself to listen in, still out of sight.

"Thank you," Lupin was saying.

There was a silence, and Harry knew he really should move, either back upstairs or all the way down, but part of him was waiting for more.

"Harry told me he apologized," Lupin said, making Harry lean forward eagerly.

Snape snorted. "Parroted your exact words, I don't doubt."

"I was afraid he would." Lupin sighed heavily. "I don't think he -"

"I don't think he's capable of feeling sincerely apologetic regardless of what he's guilty of - hold still, Lupin, unless you want this potion in your lap - he's too arrogant and sure of his own overimportance... though I admit he surprised me by offering to work. Was that your suggestion?"

"No, it wasn't. Surprised me, as well. I half-expected you'd throw him out on his ear without hearing him out. There wasn't an ounce of sincerity in him when we spoke - you're right about that. To tell you the truth I was growing worried that he didn't come back right away."

Snape didn't reply.

"I do think..." Lupin hesitated. "Well, honestly, I don't know what to think sometimes. Was he respectful, at least?"

"Respectful enough when given no other option."

"Yes..." Lupin sighed again. "I've noticed - no, Severus, I really have, I'm not making excuses for him in this regard. Neither modeling proper behavior nor admonishing him when he's rude seems to do a bit of good."

"Spoiled beyond all reason," Snape said.

"I had hoped he would settle down," Lupin said. "If I had the strength and the patience..."

"You had better pull yourself together before the start of term," Snape said critically. "It won't get easier."

Lupin's voice was low. "I'm trying, Severus."

There was a short pause.

"I know."

"I... I don't know what I would do if you weren't here."

"Drinking yourself to death, no doubt," Snape said harshly. "Letting those halfwits walk all over you. The cellar, Lupin? Whose idea was it?"

Lupin laughed mirthlessly. "It was the one place no one would follow me. Don't lecture me, Severus, your dungeon is barely habitable."

"Lupin..."

"Let's not argue anymore. I really am grateful to you. And for Harry's sake, too."

Snape sniffed derisively.

"I don't think you should have told him," Lupin continued. "Not yet."

"I admit it wasn't ideal."

Lupin sighed. "No. None of this is ideal. I had hoped..."

"Don't."

"What?"

"Don't get that look on your face. I'm only doing this because we both know there is no other way."

Harry crept down another step, ears straining.

"I know, Severus," Lupin said softly. "I just couldn't help hoping... With Sirius gone, he has no one left."

"He doesn't want anyone. Haven't you noticed? Anyone who tries to exert any sort of authority over him is treated with nothing but contempt. He's doing it to you; he did it to Dumbledore; I'm convinced the only reason he got on so well with Black was that Black encouraged him rather than try to take him in hand."

"That's not true. Sirius had his faults, I know, but his intentions were good."

Harry braced himself for Snape's retort. Anger was already bubbling up inside him. What did Snape know about anything?

To his absolute aggravation, whatever Snape said next was spoken too low for him to catch.

"I know," Lupin said, his voice barely louder than Snape's, and sounding a bit hoarse. "I know. Thank you for saying that."

"Potter will muddle through," Snape said. "He'll be fine. You need to worry about yourself..."

"Severus, I... not here... Harry will be down any minute, I don't care for another row..."

Harry had a sudden, sinking realization of what could be happening. Without thinking, he stomped down the rest of the steps into the kitchen.

The two men looked at him, startled, Snape dropping Lupin's arm as though it were a piece of hot coal and stepping back. His face was furious.

Lupin jumped up from his seat, yanking down his rolled-up sleeves, and quickly schooled his features into an overly friendly expression.

"Harry, there you are," he said. "I wondered what was keeping you. Well, come on, grab a chair." He darted an uncomfortable look at Snape. "Professor Snape was just helping me apply a new potion. It's amazing how much it's helped already."

Harry had managed to clamp his mouth shut around whatever outburst had almost broken free. He was still breathing hard, but he had managed to get himself under control. Maybe he had been completely off, and it would do absolutely no good to reveal that he'd been eavesdropping on their conversation.

"I... I tripped on the stairs," he lied. "Dudley's old trousers... too big, you know?"

Snape looked at him as though Harry were a squashed insect on the bottom of his shoe.

"I'm sure I can alter them to fit better," Lupin said, visibly relaxing. "It's a simple charm. We'll take care of it after dinner."

They ate. Harry tried not to be obvious, but he looked very closely at Lupin throughout dinner, and, just once, at Snape. He had found Snape looking him over with an unnerving intensity, and from then on kept his eyes averted.

Lupin kept up his unusually cheerful demeanor, despite the fact that Harry was barely concentrating on what was being said, and so did not reply appropriately half the time, and Snape did not reply at all.

"Perhaps later, Harry, you can tell me more about what was covered in Defense Against the Dark Arts last year," Lupin said.

Harry stared at him. That would take all of five seconds. Lupin knew that. "Sure. I think I still have all our assignments."

"Great!" Lupin said. "That might be just what I need."

Snape pushed away his plate and stood up.

"Aren't you going to finish your soup, Severus?" Lupin asked. Snape's plate was half full.

"No," Snape said cuttingly. "I do wish you would have food delivered, Lupin."

Lupin looked bewildered and slightly hurt. "Was there something wrong with it?"

"It was bland," Snape said scathingly, making 'bland' sound like the worst possible insult a dish could receive.

Lupin blinked several times, frowning, and then Harry thought he saw another expression - what was it? - fleet briefly across his face.

"Oh," Lupin said, his voice carefully expressionless. "I am sorry you don't find my cooking palatable, Severus."

Snape sniffed derisively and picked up the empty goblet from the counter. "I have several potions to attend to," he said. "I do not wish to be disturbed for the remainder of the evening."

"Of course," Lupin said, nodding. "Have a good evening."

Harry watched the exchange with growing unease and confusion. He had the distinct feeling that he was watching a show put on for his benefit, and yet Snape genuinely looked angry with Lupin, while Lupin seemed to be masking his emotions with exaggerated politeness. It seemed such a departure from what he had overheard earlier that Harry only felt more mixed-up than ever.

"What was that all about?" he asked when Snape had left.

"Oh..." Lupin shrugged. "Professor Snape does not like my cooking, apparently. How is your soup, Harry?"

"It's fine," Harry said at once, though until then he had been too wrapped up in his thoughts to actually taste what he was eating. In any case, he had never noticed anything wrong with the food Lupin prepared; it was even decent when it was re-warmed from the previous day. "It's great!"

Lupin smiled at him. "Would you rather have take away?"

"No," Harry said vehemently. "Don't listen to Snape."

Lupin stopped smiling.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry sprawled on his bed, indulging in self-pity.

He had just counted the days since his arrival at Grimmauld Place, and found that he had only been there a week. It seemed like a lot longer. And it was weeks and weeks before he could expect to leave.

For the first time ever, he wished himself back at the Dursleys. As dreadful as they were, he would gladly stop complaining about them now that he knew the alternative was having Snape as his guardian and Lupin looking at him with barely-disguised condemnation in his eyes. In fact, he could come up with a long list of complaints...

Before he could begin that list, he heard footsteps coming toward his room from the direction of the stairs, and jumped up to peer out into the hallway.

Lupin stopped, a step past Harry's door, and turned to face him with a forced smile.

"Were you coming to see me?" Harry asked innocently, feeling vindictive. He knew perfectly well that Lupin was on his way to see Snape; he didn't even need to see Lupin's eyes dart to the closed door at the end of the hallway.

"Er... yes," Lupin said reluctantly. "We really should talk, Harry."

Harry held open the door. He sat down on the bed, folding his legs under him, while Lupin sat down on top of Harry's trunk.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Harry asked. In the back of his mind, he felt terrible about this, he really did, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

"Oh... well," Lupin said, pausing to give him a penetrating look and then throwing the question back at him, "I thought we ended on a sour note at dinner. And you were very quiet all evening. Is anything bothering you?"

"No," Harry said. He wished he had something to say; something that would keep Lupin in his room for the next few hours so he would miss meeting Snape, but he wasn't going to make up things that weren't true. "Not really."

"Not really?" Lupin prodded. "Suddenly you're all out of questions?"

Harry scowled. "What's the point? You never answer any of them anyway. I do want to know where Hedwig is, for one thing. You know, if you just tell me, I won't ask to have her brought here. As long as I know she's all right."

"She is all right, and I have told you that," Lupin said, a tinge of irritation creeping into his voice. "She's at Hogwarts, being taken care of same as any other owl. What do you think happens to owls owned by Muggle-born students during the summer?"

Harry had never thought about it. "I supposed they took their owls with them. I did, and I lived with Muggles."

"And some can do that," Lupin agreed. "Other can't."

"Okay," Harry said. He felt angry. There had been absolutely no reason why Lupin couldn't have told him where Hedwig was. It was a simple enough explanation. "There, I'm not kicking and screaming and demanding to have her back."

"Good," Lupin said. "Because you can't have her flying all over the place. She's too conspicuous."

"Someone would nab her?" Harry asked. "Has that been happening to my mail?"

Lupin nodded. "A few letters, early on. Nothing we think was damaging."

Harry thought it was _very_ damaging. Those were letters to _him_, probably from his friends, and all while he'd been waiting desperately for any word from them.

"I suppose that isn't the way you see it," Lupin said, guessing his thoughts. "I'm sorry, but we have to look at the bigger picture, and that's keeping you out of harm's way."

Harry didn't suppose that Lupin would tell him exactly what sort of harm they thought was likely to come to him. With effort, he suppressed that thought. "I appreciate you doing that."

To his surprise, Lupin reached out and briefly laid his hand over Harry's. "It's something I can't imagine not doing. I know it's not the same. I'm not your father or Sirius or Dumbledore, and you've never had to see me in that role, but it's impossible for me to not care about you."

"Because I'm James' son?" Harry asked suspiciously; a lot of people did seem to put a great deal of stock in that. "Or because Sirius cared about me?"

"Because _I_ care about you."

Harry felt a little choked up.

But somehow, the unexpected connection failed to even begin to fill the void inside him. The tears prickling his eyes were for Sirius.

He wanted, so much, to share that with Lupin. There was no one else in the world who had loved Sirius or who now missed him as much as Harry did. It struck him as a deep injustice that Sirius was remembered by so few. An even greater injustice if what Harry had started to suspect about Lupin and Snape was true.

"I miss Sirius," he said simply.

"I know," Lupin said. Harry didn't recall how he came to have his head down on Lupin's shoulder. "I know you do. I miss him too."

"It's not fair," Harry whispered. "And don't tell me life's not fair."

Lupin didn't, and his hold on Harry tightened until it was painful.

"Dumbledore..." Harry pulled away from Lupin, hastily wiping his eyes. "He said once that death was just the next great adventure, but -"

Lupin sniffed derisively. "But that's Dumbledore," he finished in Harry's place. "He was over a hundred years old. It's a stupid, stupid thing for anyone to say. You know how hollow it is if you just think of a child that's died. Life is the greatest adventure, Harry. I don't know what comes after, and for all we know there is nothing. Sirius wanted to live. Like any good man, he was ready to die fighting for the right cause, but he wanted to live."

And because of Harry, he didn't get to.

For a long while they didn't say anything. Lupin was staring bleakly at the wall. Harry didn't want to know what he was thinking, or if he was trying not to think at all.

"Do you think..." he began hesitantly, "I mean, I know you said we don't know, but..." He had to stop to draw in a breath. "Do you think Sirius is in a good place?"

Lupin slowly turned to look at Harry. His voice came out strangled. "No one knows what comes after death, Harry. It's not for us to know."

"But, do _you_ think...?"

"I don't know."

Harry swallowed. That was neither the answer he wanted, nor the one he expected. Sirius had been a good person. A great person. And Lupin had just said that himself.

Lupin smiled a dark, forced smile. "That wasn't a kind answer. I'm sorry, Harry." He pressed his hand against his eyes, sighing deeply. "Yes, if there's a Heaven, surely it has room in it for Sirius."

Harry nodded, but the heaviness in his chest didn't leave.

If there was a Heaven, he wanted to believe that his mum and dad, and now Sirius, were all there together, and happy. But he just couldn't see it. And apparently, neither did Lupin.

"I don't even have any pictures of him," he said glumly. "Recent ones, I mean. I don't think we ever took any."

Lupin swallowed visibly. "I'll look through what I have." The expression on his face told Harry it was the last thing he wanted to do. "I believe I may have one or two from Christmas."

"That would be great," Harry said. "If you don't mind."

"I don't mind," Lupin said. "I should have thought of it before myself, really."

"You... must think about him all the time," Harry said, avoiding looking directly at Lupin.

A suspicious look fleeted briefly across Lupin's face, but he said only, "Yes."

Harry decided to drop it.

"I've been thinking about the Dursleys," he said, grimacing as the name rolled over his tongue with usual unpleasantness.

"Oh?" Lupin still sounded somewhat guarded, but seemed to welcome the change of subject. "What about them?"

"I just wondered. You know. If I wasn't safe over there because there weren't enough people who could keep watch over the place... does that mean the Dursleys might be in danger, too?"

Lupin shook his head dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Everyone knows you're no longer there. There's no reason why they would be bothered."

"Oh. All right."

Lupin's attention was wandering. Harry saw him checking his watch.

"Uh..." He racked his brains for something else. His eyes trailed over the books piled haphazardly on the small table next to the bed. "You said before that if I needed any help with the Defense textbook, I could ask you."

Lupin nodded. "Of course. Have you made any progress?"

"Not really," Harry said. He hadn't made it past the introductory chapter. "It's very dry. I've just been wondering how necessary it all is."

"Hmm. Well, theory is very important. It's a rare wizard who can commit hundreds of spells, and their counter-charms, to memory. Being able to identify the nature of the spell, even if the spell itself is unfamiliar, is a very valuable skill."

"I'll try to pay more attention," Harry said. "I suppose Hermione will just memorize them all."

Lupin smiled. "She might do that, yes."

"And I suppose... if someone wanted to be an Auror, that person would need to know a lot of the spells."

"More than the average wizard, yes."

Harry sighed.

"Harry..." Lupin said, his brow furrowed, "are you absolutely certain you want to be an Auror? I know you mentioned it a few times, but really, there are so many other things you could do. It must all seem very exciting to a boy your age, but Aurors have hard, usually short lives. It's not a decision you should take lightly."

"It's what I want to do," Harry said stubbornly. "And McGonagall agrees with me. She said she'd do everything she could to make sure I became one."

Lupin's frown deepened. "That doesn't sound like something Minerva would say..."

"Well, she did! Umbridge was on my case and -"

"Ah. Umbridge."

Harry snapped his mouth shut abruptly. He didn't like the dismissive look on Lupin's face.

"Have you considered, Harry," Lupin said, "that any statement made in the presence of that woman should be taken with a grain of salt? People's emotions tend to run away with them when under pressure. I'm sure that what she meant to say is that she would support any decision you made, which is the role of a Head of House. It's not, however, appropriate to provide special treatment to any one student."

Harry clenched his mouth tighter.

"Given the kind of year you had, it would be best if you took some time to think again about the different career paths available. After all, there's no reason to choose a specific career right now. The skills you'll learn in N.E.W.T. level classes can be applied to a great many professions..."

"It doesn't really matter, does it? I didn't pass Potions, and there's no way I can be an Auror without that."

Lupin sighed, looking like he regretted what he was about to say. "That isn't necessarily true. Certainly skill in potion-making is something Aurors need, and a specific set of classes is recommended for those considering this career, but it isn't the only path to becoming an Auror, if that is what you ultimately choose to do."

"It's not?"

"No. If they need Aurors... well, they'll take just about anyone. I expect a lot of old timers will be retiring now that Voldemort's gone." He paused. "If you're serious about it, you might speak to Tonks. She was a right mess in Potions, from what I've heard."

Harry brightened slightly.

"For that matter," Lupin continued, instantly dampening Harry's mood again, "you might speak to Professor Snape. Quite likely he would know what you would be required to do if you were to apply for Auror training without having completed a N.E.W.T. level course in Potions."

"All right," Harry said with what he thought was an admirable amount of agreement in his voice. "I might do that."

Lupin didn't look as if he believed that. He shook his head exasperatedly. "You might make an effort, Harry. There's no telling how long he will be your guardian."

"I _am_ making an effort," Harry said, annoyed. "I apologized to him, didn't I? I agreed to spend hours working for him, didn't I? I even _said_ he wasn't so bad over the whole thing."

"Yes."

"If he'd stop badgering me about every little thing he thinks is wrong with me, I might like him a lot better." And then, without thinking, he added, "I mean, _you_ like him."

Frown lines appeared instantly across Lupin's forehead. "Yes," he said warily.

A warning voice in Harry's head told him this was as far as he could push Lupin.

"Right," he said, trying to return some lightness to his voice. "I meant -"

"I know what you meant," Lupin said, not letting him finish. "That's enough, Harry."

Harry scowled and traced a faded pattern on his bedspread with his finger, picking at a loose thread.

"Well," Lupin said, starting to get up, "I think it's time to turn in for the night, don't you?" Harry noticed his eyes flicker toward his watch again.

Quickly, forgetting everything, he grabbed his photo album from the table. "Actually, I've been meaning to ask you about a photograph I have. While you're here."

Lupin lowered himself back onto the trunk and accepted the album as if it might explode when he touched it. He didn't open it.

"It's on the sixth page," Harry prompted, suddenly determined that Lupin should see that particular picture.

Lupin flipped the pages.

"I wasn't sure if that was you," Harry said, pointing to a picture in which a number of Seventh Year boys sat around a table. Only one of them, James, was facing the camera, looking bored out of his skull. Harry thought the bulky boy bending down to rummage in his book bag might be Peter Pettigrew, and the two off to the side, mostly hidden by teetering stacks of books, were Sirius and Lupin. He didn't recognize a curly-haired boy next to Peter, or the one trying to mop up the mess made by a spilled bottle of ink.

Lupin nodded. "Studying for History of Magic, if I recall correctly."

As casually as he could manage, Harry said, "Is that Sirius? I mean, I wasn't sure, because I think you're holding hands under the table -"

Lupin slammed the album shut.

There was a long, awful moment of silence.

"I know what you're trying to do, Harry, and it isn't going to work," Lupin said with impossible calm. "Sirius is dead. I am not going to spend another twelve years with my life on hold. I did that. If things had turned out differently, I would have considered every moment worth it. But we can't change what is. Whom I choose to share my life with is not your business. Please try to remember that in the future." He stood up, setting the album down on the lid of the trunk. "Now, unless there is anything else that we absolutely must discuss tonight, I think it's time for you to be in bed."

Harry's head wagged numbly. His insides felt very cold.

"Good night, Harry," Lupin said, and walked out, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Harry sat frozen for several long minutes. Lupin's footsteps grew more distant, and then a door opened and shut down the hall.

His mind had shut off. Without knowing exactly what he was doing, Harry was under his Invisibility Cloak and out of his bedroom before any second thoughts could interfere.

There was dim light under Snape's door, and as soon as Harry flattened himself against the shabby wood floor, his nose pressed painfully into the wood, he knew there was no silencing spell on the room.

Well, he'd know once and for all, wouldn't he? He didn't care if he was caught - or at least he didn't at that moment.

He heard Snape's voice.

"You told him."

"He knew. Or suspected, anyway. I don't suppose you bought that silly act at dinner...?"

"The boy is a terrible liar. Nevertheless, I gave you a perfectly good excuse."

"It would have just made it more difficult to explain later. He might as well know. I don't like having to lie to him, and I'm already doing enough of that."

"Stop pacing, Lupin, and sit down." There was a long pause. "I can see you didn't like what he had to say."

"No, it's just - I don't know."

"Tried to make you feel guilty, I suppose. Typical."

"That's not..."

There was another long pause, and Harry shifted uncomfortably on the hard floor.

"Look, he's just confused. He's feeling betrayed on Sirius' behalf, I suppose. I said all the wrong things..."

Harry heard Lupin sigh heavily.

"I overreacted, again. I keep telling myself to have patience, and to not read more into his words than is likely to be there, and then... Then he says something, and I react before I can catch myself."

"Understandable."

"No. Everything started out so well. We connected - really _connected_ - and he opened up to me. I wanted to leave it at that."

"But?"

"But he didn't want me to go."

"Because he knew you were coming here."

"Yes, but -"

"No, that's precisely it, Lupin."

"He just wanted validation. He just wanted to know that someone else cared about Sirius as much as he had. I actually... It was good. It was very good. We both needed that."

Snape didn't reply.

"And we talked, about many different things. I thought... I'd handled it. But he kept bringing the subject back around to Sirius... I don't think he can understand, and it's not his fault. I snapped at him... I said hurtful things. I just wanted him to stop."

Harry's stomach clenched guiltily. He _had_ known he should stop.

"He doesn't understand subtlety."

"No - that comes with age. I wish you would stop expecting him to pick up on these things." He paused. "I wish _I_ would stop expecting him to."

"Well? What did you say to him that you think was so unforgivable?"

"I told him Sirius was dead."

"The truth, then."

Harry hated him.

"And that it wasn't his business whom I was involved with."

"That went over well, I'm sure."

"I _hurt_ him, Severus!" Lupin said angrily. "There was just no excuse. None at all. I'm a beast."

Snape snorted.

"Don't," Lupin said harshly.

"If that's all, then simply tell him the truth tomorrow. You became upset because it was too painful to talk about. Even Potter is not so dim-witted that he could fail to understand that."

"It's... not all."

"Well?"

"He told me something Albus had said to him once. 'Death is the next great adventure.'"

"Nonsense," Snape said calmly. "Though it wouldn't surprise me if Albus believed it."

"It's more than nonsense. It was so _wrong_ - so _profoundly_ wrong - I got so _angry_. And I said... I said that I didn't believe there were any great adventures in the afterlife. And that Sirius had wanted to live."

"Name someone who doesn't."

"I might as well have come out and said it was Harry's fault."

Harry's skin turned clammy. He waited, both wanting and not wanting Lupin to go on. At least he would know...

"You blame him," Snape said. It wasn't a question.

"I don't blame him," Lupin said. Harry heard him get up and begin pacing again. "I don't _want_ to blame him."

"But just the same, you do. Loathe as I am to say it, what happened wasn't Potter fault. Black should have stayed put. Why he didn't... you might as well blame me."

_Yes_, Harry thought furiously. _Yes_. And he realized with a sickening jolt that he did, right alongside blaming himself, blame Snape, the only other person who could have prevented it all. Not just for failing to prevent it, but for helping to bring it about.

"That's... ridiculous. I don't blame you. I don't blame Harry. I don't want to blame anyone."

"It's a unique case. Blame is going to be part of the grief process. Accept what you feel, and let it run its course."

"I can't. You know I can't. I'll go mad."

"It only feels that way."

"No. There's things I can't bring myself to think about right now."

There was no more for such a long time that Harry began to wonder if a silencing spell had been cast. His neck ached from the strain of holding his head at an unnatural angle, and he was freezing; a cold draft along the floor snaked under the Cloak and through his clothing.

"Was that it?" Snape said, inexplicably gently. "He brought up Albus' ridiculous speech, and wanted to know if you thought Black was off having a grand time?"

Lupin sniffed miserably. "I think I've been waiting for it. Just waiting for him to ask something like this. He asked me..." Lupin broke off.

"What, Lupin? For Merlin's sake... Sit down. Come here."

"He... asked if I thought Sirius was in a better place. In a good place. And I... I just... couldn't... tell him... the Veil..."

And then there was nothing but the sound of wretched, agonized sobbing.

* * *

In his dream, Harry was running down endless corridors, trying to find the door to the Death Chamber. A cold, high-pitched voice taunted him.

_"I have him, Harry Potter. He's right here with me."_

He was pulled from sleep when the covers were yanked away from him and he was shaken roughly by the shoulders.

His ears still ringing with maniacal laughter, it took a few moments for his sleep-blurred mind to grasp what was happening.

"Up, Harry!" Lupin ordered in a harsh whisper. "We need to get you out of here _now_!"

"W-what?"

Lupin pulled him forcefully out of bed. "Where's your Cloak?"

Harry stared at him dumbly. "What?"

"Your _CLOAK_!"

"In my trunk," Harry said, his brain finally starting to wake up. "I'll get -"

But Lupin had already thrown open the trunk and was shoving the Invisibility Cloak into Harry's hands. "We have to get this trunk out of here. Quickly, Harry, grab anything that belongs to you. Quickly!"

Lupin's near-panic was infectious. Harry looked around the room wildly, searching for anything that hadn't been there when he arrived. He came up with three books and two mismatched socks, and the clothing he wore the previous day, which he hastily put on.

Lupin was blasting spells left and right; the bed was stripped, the blankets folded themselves, dust flew from under the bed to coat everything in a fine layer. Harry was afraid to move in case he got hit.

"Come on," Lupin said, grabbing him by the shoulder again and shoving him in the direction of the door. "Drawing room. Hurry, Harry."

With Lupin dragging the trunk, they got downstairs with surprising speed.

"Lupin!"

Harry looked up to see Snape practically running toward them from the other end of the hallway.

"How much time?" Lupin asked, even as he pushed Harry toward the drawing room door. "Get in the cellar, Harry, _now_... four wand taps."

Harry moved reluctantly toward the heavy drape hiding the entrance to the cellar.

He looked back. Snape had Lupin by the arm, and was leaning close, speaking agitatedly.

Lupin looked up, saw him, and snapped, "Harry, _get inside_, damn it!"

Snape let go of Lupin's arm. "Get him out of here, Lupin. Just take him and go - I'll hold them off as long as I can. _Make him stay put_!"

_Hold them off_? Harry thought numbly. Nothing made any sense. It was like he was still trapped inside his nightmare.

He didn't have time to think. Lupin yanked and shoved him all the way down the long, steep staircase - Harry's wrenched shoulder was in agony - the trunk thumping down the steps behind them. The door at the top of the staircase shut after them, throwing them into total darkness until a dim light appeared at the tip of Lupin's wand.

The staircase ended in front of a heavy door, which Lupin pushed open with effort.

"Inside."

Harry allowed himself to be shoved forward one final time, stumbling on the uneven stone floor, and found himself in a small, square room, lit only with a single lamp on the wall.

Lupin grasped Harry's upper arms and twisted him around so they were face to face.

"_Listen_ to me, Harry," he said, his voice harsh with a frightening desperation. "You need to stay here, and you can't make a sound. _You can't make a sound_, do you understand me?"

Harry could only nod; he couldn't even blink, his eyes straining out of their sockets.

Lupin shook him, hard. "_Do you understand me_?"

"Yes!" Harry's voice came out a hoarse whisper.

"Put your Cloak on -" Lupin was already yanking the Invisibility Cloak out of Harry's hands and wrapping it around him. "Get in a corner and _stay there_, no matter what happens."

Harry stumbled back, trying to obey but his legs not cooperating.

Lupin was looking around, turning this way and that, muttering to himself. "Trunk... trunk... where...?"

Finally, the trunk was dispatched to the far end of the room, where a stained sheet covered it and it turned abruptly into a dingy couch.

Lupin turned to Harry one last time, adjusting the Cloak so that no part of him showed. "I'm going to take the light, Harry. Promise me - _promise me_ - that you will stay put until I come to get you."

"I promise," Harry whispered. He didn't want Lupin to go, suddenly terrified of being left alone.

But Lupin didn't wait. The lamp flickered out with a hiss, and before Harry could think, the heavy door was shutting him in.

For a moment, he panicked, stumbling blindly to where the light from Lupin's wand had vanished and trying to yank the door open again - only to find that there was no door handle. His fingers clawed at the crack between the door and the frame, before he finally got himself under control.

He listened.

There was nothing. A complete absence of sound.

It was so dark that he couldn't see his hand when he held it up in front of his still bulging eyes.

He struggled to do what Lupin had told him. Find a corner. Easier said than done, when he couldn't see. Twice he tripped over debris on the floor, and once his Cloak caught on something and was almost ripped away from him. He had no way of knowing if all of him was still covered.

Finally, by feeling along the wall, he made it to a corner and allowed his shaky legs to buckle, sinking to the floor and holding the Cloak closer around himself.

His heartbeat ticked off the seconds. There was no other way to know how much time was passing. He just knew it already felt like an eternity.

In the stillness, his brain finally began to catch up with the rest of him. There hadn't been time for thought before, but now his thoughts whirled at a mad speed, making up for lost time.

Lupin had acted as though they were under attack. And he had erased any sign that Harry was at Grimmauld Place. Someone was coming; someone that Snape was going to hold off for as long as he could... Harry shuddered, imagining the worst. Whether Snape knew it or not, he had chosen almost the precise words Harry had so often heard inside his head - James Potter's last words to Harry's mum.

His mind began to paint gruesome images of what might be happening upstairs. If Lupin and Snape were killed, would he even make it out of the cellar? No light, no one knew where he was...

But the idea of Lupin dying was too monstrous to bear. Despite there being no sound, Harry pressed his hands over his ears.

After a while, reason started to return to him.

He had his wand. That meant he had light, if he needed it, and that he could probably get the door opened... if he needed to.

What he _needed_ to do was to calm down and wait. He had promised he would. He latched onto that. He had broken so many similar promises, with horrible results. He was just going to trust that Lupin knew what he was saying when he said, 'No matter what happens.'

And it seemed that something was happening. Where there had been no sound before, now Harry heard a sort of low rumble.

He frowned, trying to understand, and then it came to him. It was the sound of many feet descending the stone steps to the cellar.

The door opened, and light seared his eyes like lightning.

"As you can see, Minister, the place is unused except during the full moon."

Harry blinked rapidly, trying to adjust his vision. _Fudge_ was here?

"Yes, yes," Fudge's voice said impatiently, and now Harry could see the outline of the Minister's top hat bobbing among taller, bulkier shapes. "I'm sure you won't mind if we have a closer look."

"Of course. Take all the time you need."

Harry's eyes had adjusted now, and he could see that Fudge was accompanied by four Aurors, none of whom he recognized. They held their lit wands aloft, illuminating every corner of the cellar. They did not, however, approach the spot where Harry crouched. For now, at least, they seemed to accept that a corner that looked empty was indeed so.

Neither Lupin nor Snape looked in Harry's direction. Neither looked alarmed, though Snape, as usual, looked irritated and was scowling.

"Let me go over your statements one more time," Fudge said, while two of the Aurors began poking at the dingy couch that hid Harry's trunk. He turned to Snape. "You say you took the boy from his relatives?"

"That's right," Snape said.

"Where did you take him?"

"To a cemetery just outside London."

"Did you stop anywhere?"

"No."

"The boy took his school trunk, is that correct?"

"That is correct."

"Then you did not intend to take him back to his relatives?"

"It was arranged that he would stay with friends for the remainder of the summer."

"I see. Arthur Weasley's family, I presume? How very convenient that they cannot be located, just like the boy. Very well; what happened when you arrived at your destination?"

"I sent him inside and I left."

"You left. You did not stay for the ceremony?"

"No. Forgive me, Minister, but it's common knowledge that Sirius Black was not counted among my friends."

Harry's heart twisted into a pretzel. There had been a funeral for Sirius?

Fudge frowned and scribbled something down on a small pad. "I see." He turned on Lupin. "And you?"

"I was in attendance," Lupin said calmly.

"So I have in my notes," Fudge said irritably. "Did you see or speak to the boy?"

"Yes, I did. However, I left before the ceremony was over."

"And why was that?"

Lupin cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. "I became... upset. Sirius and I were... close."

Fudge looked disgusted. "Yes, yes," he said, shuffling some papers, "I have that here. Tragic, what happened." He did not look in the least sympathetic. "Now, you both claim that you have not seen the boy since?"

"That's right," Snape said.

"No idea why he would run away?"

Snape and Lupin exchanged a look.

"Well?" Fudge demanded.

Lupin scratched his cheek and frowned. "You see, Minister, Harry didn't give us a chance to explain. When Severus fetched him from his relatives, he of course had to tell them that he had been named Harry's legal guardian in their stead. I'm afraid this information may have unhinged Harry."

"UNHINGED?" Fudge exclaimed, his eyes bulging. "In what way do you mean?"

Lupin held up his hands. "Er... I simply meant that Harry became very upset. Terrible choice of words; I apologize."

Harry let out a breath. Fudge hadn't been the only one thrown by Lupin's remark.

Fudge glared at Lupin even while his quill flew across an ever-lengthening piece of parchment. "Go on. He became upset and...?"

"He quite dislikes Severus. You know how children are. Strict teachers are unpopular. There had been some unfortunate incidents, and I'm afraid Harry was quite unreasonable..."

"Perhaps you will recall one such incident that you were personally present for, Minister," added Snape. "At the end of Potter's fourth year."

"Yes, I do recall that," Fudge said, frowning. "A violent temper that boy displayed..."

Snape smiled an ugly smile. "A difficult, willful boy."

Fudge eagerly wrote that down.

"As I was saying," Lupin said, "Harry became upset upon learning that Severus was his guardian. I fear that this may be why he ran away. If only he had let me explain, none of this would have happened."

"Hrmph. You do not deny, then, that you attempted to circumvent the reasonable and necessary restrictions regarding guardianship of minors, as defined under Act 417, recently enacted by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures?"

"I don't deny I wanted to keep Harry close," Lupin said shortly. "No."

"Hrmph," Fudge said again, and wrote something down. "All right. We will let that pass for now. Assuming the boy did run away for the reasons you claim, I suppose you have no idea where he might have gone?"

"None," Snape said. "As you've noted, Minister, the Weasleys have been out of contact, though personally I doubt Potter is with them."

"What makes you say that?" Fudge demanded, scribbling furiously on his pad.

"Potter nearly got two of the Weasley children killed. It was my impression that their feelings toward the boy have... cooled."

Harry swallowed hard.

"Still, very suspicious..." Fudge muttered. He cleared his throat. "In fact, I find it highly suspicious that you, Mr. Snape, have recently received guardianship of another boy approximately the same age."

"My son. Yes."

Harry almost choked.

"And where is your son now?"

"He is spending the last weeks of summer with his maternal relations. I would prefer it if they were left undisturbed. However, he will be attending Hogwarts, and you are more than welcome to see him then."

"Well," Fudge said, shuffling yet more papers, "the Office of Child and Family Services is satisfied that all is in order. Still, another coincidence." He pursed his lips. "I do not trust coincidences, Mr. Snape."

There was a long silence.

"Now," Fudge finally continued, "about these sightings... What would the boy be doing at King's Cross?"

"I don't know," Lupin said. "Are you certain it was him, Minister?"

"Certain," Fudge said firmly. "He was seen by several Aurors. However, they lost him on a crowded platform."

"Perhaps he took a train somewhere," Lupin suggested. "He would be very comfortable doing that, having been raised by Muggles. Sometimes we forget that. I would look for him among Muggles as well as -"

"I assure you, we are!" Fudge interrupted. "His Muggle relatives are being _thoroughly_ investigated."

"Nothing here, Minister," one of the Aurors said.

Harry, who has been wondering what he should do if the Auror tapping his wand along the wall, less than an arm's length away, came any closer, started breathing again.

"Hrmph. Very well," Fudge said, putting away his quill. "If we have any more questions for you, we will ask you to come down to the Ministry building again. In the meantime, if you hear from the boy, I expect you to contact the authorities immediately. Contact _me_ directly, in fact." He narrowed his eyes. "I would like to remind you that the boy is a potential danger to himself and others. It is imperative that we assess him. Anyone who contributes to placing the public at further risk will be dealt with quite harshly, I assure you."

With that, Fudge, followed by the Aurors, walked past Snape and Lupin and disappeared up the stairwell.

Lupin's eyes flickered briefly toward Harry's corner, and his hand made a barely perceptible motion. _Stay put_.

And then they, too, walked out of the cellar, shutting the door and leaving Harry alone in darkness again.

* * *

It was another eternity before anyone came for him.

Harry was shivering and his nose was running. His entire body was numb from sitting on the cold stone floor. In his exhaustion, he had nodded off several times, only to jerk awake in panic. Each time, he had awakened to nothing but darkness.

"Come on, Potter," Snape said, surprisingly with an absence of malice. He had pulled the Invisibility Cloak off Harry and folded it over one arm.

"Are they gone?" Harry asked wearily. His legs scarcely held him, and he winced as pins and needles stabbed into his feet.

"Yes."

"Where's Lupin?"

Snape sighed. Harry noticed, even by the light of Snape's wand, that Snape's eyes were dark-rimmed and tired. "In the kitchen, doing what Lupin does best after a crisis. Making tea."

Harry started to smile, and found himself too worn out.

They went upstairs, Harry stumbling over the last few steps. He wanted to collapse on one of the couches in the drawing room, but Snape had him by the elbow and pulled him along. Another flight of stairs, and Harry finally dropped bonelessly into a chair.

"You're freezing," Lupin said as soon as he saw him. He took both of Harry's hands and rubbed them briskly. "I'm so sorry, Harry. The place was under surveillance." He cupped Harry's face and raised his chin. "I'm so proud of you. That was more than could have been expected of anyone."

"S'all right," Harry mumbled. His teeth were chattering.

"Here, have some tea." Lupin pushed a steaming cup into Harry's hands.

Harry drank it in silence. It really did make him feel better.

Or warmer, anyway.

It was very strange. Clearly, it was still the middle of the night, and the kitchen was lit only by a single gas lamp above the sink. Snape didn't sit down, but leaned against the counter, shaking his head when Lupin offered him tea. Lupin sat opposite Harry, nursing his third cup, at least, and his hands were shaking, making the cup rattle on its saucer.

His brain refused to process any more than that bit of information. He supposed that all this time, starting with waking from a nightmare only to find himself in the middle of another, he had really been in shock.

"I know you must be wondering what just happened."

Harry stared at Lupin blankly. For the first time ever, he could honestly say that he didn't care at all if anyone told him anything. He wanted to sit there, drink his tea, and not think.

But Lupin was looking at him with a tense, expectant look on his face, and Harry supposed he was bracing himself for another round of yelling.

"I guess," he said unenthusiastically. "Not really. I want to go to bed."

"Of course," Lupin said.

And then Harry was being led upstairs, seeing very little and barely taking note of the fact that the bed Lupin helped him into wasn't in his own room.

Everything went black.

* * *

He woke with his head stuffy and heavy. His body was stiff, and he didn't feel like moving.

Snape took the opportunity to pour a foul potion down his throat, which, while it didn't improve his mood, Harry had to admit helped a great deal.

As soon as Snape left he sat up, looking around.

Snape's room.

Snape's bed.

He shuddered.

His clothing was folded neatly on a chair next to the bed, and Harry quickly changed out of his pajamas.

A clock on the wall told him absolutely nothing useful, having no apparent time-telling abilities. He sighed and sat back down on the bed.

He didn't particularly want to talk to anyone. The previous night was a complete jumble in his head, and he wasn't sure where to begin sorting it out.

He didn't have much time to wonder about it; Snape must have informed Lupin that he was awake.

"Hungry?"

Harry looked at the tray Lupin had brought with disinterest. He shook his head.

Lupin looked worried.

"I'm okay," Harry said, heading off whatever Lupin was going to say.

Lupin nodded and made no comment.

"What time is it?"

Lupin glanced at the clock. "Quarter to three."

"How can you tell?" Harry asked grumpily.

Lupin looked at the clock again, frowning. "Er..."

"Never mind," Harry said. "It doesn't matter."

"I'll show you sometime," Lupin said. "Listen, Harry, I didn't want to leave without letting you know. I'm expected at the Ministry, and Severus has to make a quick trip down to Diagon Alley. I'm afraid you'll be alone for a few hours -"

"What?" Harry exclaimed, alarmed. "What if they come back!" And then, alarmed for another reason altogether, "You're not in trouble, are you? What Fudge said - Act four million-_whatever_?"

"Four-hundred and seventeen," Lupin said, his nose wrinkling with distaste. "But, no, I doubt there will be any trouble. And, no, they won't come back, you needn't worry."

"What if they do?" Harry persisted. Lupin couldn't possibly know for certain.

"Keep your Cloak with you," Lupin said calmly. "The house is warded, and you will know if anyone comes in who isn't supposed to be here."

Harry let out a slow breath and nodded.

"All right, then?"

"Yes," Harry said. But it wasn't all right at all.

"In that case I'm off. I hope to be back by dinner, but if I'm not I don't want you to worry."

Harry nodded again, but he was already worried and nothing Lupin said was going to make him feel any different.

Lupin stood up and trailed a hand over Harry's shoulder. "It's going to be all right, Harry. We'll talk when I get back." He smiled down at him. "Comb your hair, will you?"

Harry tried to return the smile and failed. He watched Lupin go with a heavy feeling of dread.

* * *

Snape, walking past the drawing room, paused to stare at Harry, who had just pulled off his Invisibility Cloak.

"Lupin said to keep it with me," Harry said defensively.

Snape made no reply, and after a few moments turned and continued toward the library.

Sighing heavily, Harry trailed after him. He had, after all, planned to help Snape, and the package in Snape's hand, clearly from the Apothecary, suggested Snape planned to spend the rest of the afternoon brewing.

Snape said nothing as Harry followed him into the library. Harry watched him unpack bottles and jars, setting them out on the table in even rows. Three small cauldrons were set over a low flame.

Suddenly, making Harry jump, Snape looked directly at him.

"Why are you here, Potter?"

Harry blinked stupidly for a moment. Why _was_ he there? "I'm going to help."

Looking grim, Snape walked over to a bookcase, took down a very large, very old-looking book, and removed an envelope from between its pages. He pushed it across the table toward Harry.

Harry stared at it. Hermione's letter.

"I can have it?" he asked suspiciously, still not picking it up. "How come?"

Snape had returned to his work, and did not look at him. "I was... sufficiently impressed... with your actions last night."

Harry went from staring at the letter to staring at Snape. "What actions? I sat there like an idiot and froze my arse off."

"But you did sit there," Snape said. He hesitated. "If you must know, Potter, when that blasted idiot decided to question us with you not ten feet away, both Lupin and I expected to be in Azkaban by morning." He paused, apparently for effect. "Or possibly dead."

"I'm not _stupid_," Harry said indignantly. "I wouldn't have just burst out from under my Cloak or anything."

The look on Snape's face told him that was precisely what Snape had expected him to do.

"I'm _not_ stupid," Harry repeated, scowling.

"Well," Snape said reluctantly, "perhaps not as stupid as I had previously believed."

He seemed to consider the matter closed, because he turned back to the task of measuring out spoonfuls of yellow powder, which he added to each of the cauldrons in turn.

Harry considered. On the one hand, Snape clearly didn't want him there. On the other hand, Lupin was still out, and even Hermione's letter wasn't going to take his mind off that. Snape might know something.

"Is Lupin in trouble?"

"No," Snape said without looking up.

"What's Act 417?"

"A restriction on werewolves."

"I gathered that," Harry said irritably; he wondered what part of 'not stupid' Snape didn't grasp. "What does it say?"

"It restricts the right of those afflicted with lycanthropy to be instated as guardians of magical minors." Snape eyebrow arched almost imperceptibly as he looked at Harry. "Coincidentally, it was pushed through shortly before the end of the school year."

Harry considered this. Right after Sirius' death. "Some coincidence."

"Coincidences happen every day."

"Just not to me," Harry said. "But... How can Lupin teach at Hogwarts if he can't be around children?"

"_Professor_ Lupin," Snape corrected with a tinge of venom.

Harry sighed. Now Snape, too. "Professor Lupin," he repeated resignedly.

Snape looked less than satisfied, and glared at him for a moment before answering. "The restrictions preventing him from teaching have been repealed. Anything Dolores Umbridge had a hand in is being reevaluated. Minister Fudge is finding it difficult to marshal the amount of support he had become used to."

Harry considered this, too. "Malfoy."

Snape didn't reply.

"But obviously he still has enough support, if Act 417 passed."

"We believe he used the last of his resources to push it through."

"Oh. Good. But he still had those four Aurors. They seemed pretty eager to do what he wanted them to."

"There were more than four," Snape said off-handedly. "The whole house was searched top to bottom."

"Oh," Harry said lamely. "Well, at least they weren't very good. When they started poking at my trunk I thought it was all over."

Snape's mouth thinned grimly. "There are precious few _good_ Aurors in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement right now, Potter."

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, Tonks... all those people?" Harry asked with a sinking feeling.

"Sacked, shunted to other departments, placed on leave of absence..." Snape listed off evenly.

Harry swallowed.

There were many other questions floating through his head, but he was a little uneasy about bringing them up to Snape.

"Lu-" He caught himself. "Professor Lupin told me the Weasleys are safe. Is that still true?"

"Yes."

"Ron told me in a letter that their house had been searched... but that would have been while I was still at the Dursleys. I guess they couldn't have been looking for me."

"No."

Harry huffed irritably, but didn't push it.

Snape had apparently had enough of him. "If you're not going to be useful, Potter, then leave. I have a lot to do."

Harry retrieved his letter from the table, but he didn't leave. On the way downstairs, he had passed his bedroom - still as empty as it had been following his hasty exit. If he left the library, he would just be sitting in the drawing room until Lupin got back. Snape wasn't great company, but Harry still had a creepy feeling left over from the night before that he couldn't shake, and didn't want to be alone.

He retreated to a chair in the corner and ripped open the envelope.

_Dear Harry,_

_I don't know if this letter will reach you. None of the others  
did. I don't know what to do. Ron's gone, and I can't contact  
anyone at Hogwarts._

_I hope you're all right, Harry, and that it's just not safe for  
you to answer me. DON'T try to write to me if it isn't safe!_

_Love, your friend,_

_Hermione Granger_

Harry looked at the back of the single sheet of paper, on the off chance that there was anything more.

"That's _it_?"

Snape looked up, frowning at him.

_Unbelievable_, Harry thought. He stuffed the letter back into the envelope and put it in his pocket.

"If you have anything for me to do, Professor, I can help," he said with resignation.

* * *

Lupin was back a quarter past the dinner hour, looking worn out but unhurt.

Harry sat silently at the kitchen table and watched him pour a cup of tea and then sit down and stare into it moodily.

He didn't ask how things had gone.

Finally, Lupin seemed to notice him. "Are you all right, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry said.

Except for the persistent feeling of having fallen down a rabbit hole and ended up in Alice's Wonderland.

"I got Hermione's letter," he told Lupin. "Professor Snape just gave it to me."

Lupin nodded, unsurprised.

"It wasn't much."

Lupin looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"The letter. It was about two lines."

"Hermione's a smart girl."

"But she doesn't know about any of this, does she?" Harry asked. "Or where I am?"

"No, but I suppose she figured some things out for herself, based on what's been in the papers and things she may have heard. She really is very bright." He got up and opened a cabinet. "Here, these might help."

He dropped a stack of newspapers in front of Harry.

Harry stared at them without moving. Now he knew the world had flipped.

"Go on," Lupin said, prodding the stack forward. "Haven't you been dying to get your hands on a newspaper?"

Reluctantly, Harry spread the papers out on the table.

The headlines assaulted his eyes like a train wreck.

**BLACK INNOCENT, PARDONED**

**DOLORES UMBRIDGE  
Delusional, or in League with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?**

**SNAPE CLEARED  
The Wizengamot Agrees: A Spy for Dumbledore**

**WEASLEY, BONES FAMILY MISSING**  
Arthur Weasley, minor Ministry official...

**GUARDIANSHIP OF POTTER CHILD UNDECIDED  
Minister Expresses Personal Interest**  
"Certainly I believe I would be an ideal guardian for the boy,"  
stated Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge...

**DISTURBING CONNECTION  
The Shocking Link Between Harry Potter and The Dark Lord**  
Auror Williamson has disclosed details that throw doubt...

**POSSESSED!  
Potter's Mind Penetrated Prior to Fall of Dark Lord**

**SCRIMGEOUR QUITS  
Cites Disturbing Developments in Auror Office**

**LUCIUS MALFOY  
Friend or Fiend?**

**DOLORES UMBRIDGE UNDER INVESTIGATION  
Wizengamot to Reconvene on the 16th**

**ORDER OF THE PHOENIX  
Cause for Alarm?**

**HARRY POTTER MISSING!  
Where is The Boy Who Lived?**

**AUROR EXODUS** **POTTER HAS NOT BEEN FOUND  
States High-ranking Ministry Official**

**MCGONAGALL TO SUCCEED DUMBLEDORE**  
Despite the objections of Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, former  
Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall is set to...

**CALLS FOR RESIGNATION  
Minister Asked to Step Down, Refuses**

**POTTER: A NEW DANGER?  
Harry Potter Still Missing After an Exhaustive Four-Day Search**  
Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge today expressed concern  
that The Boy Who Lived may be "Not in his right mind... it is  
imperative that we find him."

**ELECTIONS IMMINENT  
Who Deserves Your Vote?**

**WEREWOLF DETAINED  
Quizzed Over Potter's Whereabouts**

**POTTER SPOTTED!  
Aurors Fail to Apprehend Dangerous Young Wizard**  
Harry Potter was seen today at King's Cross Station. Several  
Aurors arrived on the scene shortly, but failed to apprehend...

**A FRIEND'S PAIN**  
Hermione Jane Granger wept openly as she recounted how her "best  
friend for years" at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,  
Harry Potter, had struggled to retain his sanity in the face of  
continuous mental attacks by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named...

**INSANE?  
Best Friend Casts Doubt on Potter's State of Mind**

**CONSIDERED DANGEROUS  
Citizens Warned Not to Approach Potter**

**DIFFICULT, WILLFUL**  
Potions master Severus Snape described Harry Potter as "A difficult, willful boy"  
who often challenged and defied authority figures while attending Hogwarts School  
of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Professor Snape has legal guardianship of the boy,  
who has now been missing for seven days...

**WHY DID HARRY POTTER DISAPPEAR?  
Professor Remus Lupin Claims Potter "Unhinged"**  
Recently reinstated Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Remus  
Lupin, a registered werewolf with romantic ties to notorious convict  
Sirius Black...

**POTTER MYSTERY  
Search of Key Locations Fails to Turn Up Boy Who Lived**

He let the last paper fall out of his hands. On the whole, he felt as though he had just been struck hard across the face.

"Harry?" Lupin asked gently. He had been watching Harry over the rim of his cup, his eyes dark and tense.

Harry stared at him in astoundment. "Did you _kidnap_ me?"

The teacup rattled as Lupin abruptly put it down. "Of course not," he said sharply and with a sudden hard edge of anger. "No one kidnapped you."

"I think Fudge disagrees," Harry said bluntly.

"Fudge is an idiot."

Harry snorted. "I know it. But why would he be looking for me if Snape's legally my guardian?"

"The thing is, Harry..." Lupin hesitated. "Well, it isn't that simple."

"Because you kidna-"

"Stop it. No one kidnapped you. Believe me, if you were in Fudge's hands right now -"

"Hey, I'm not complaining!" Harry protested, unnerved by Lupin's overreaction. "I don't want Fudge as my guardian!"

"No," Lupin said flatly. "You don't, Harry. Your personal dislike of the man has nothing to do with it. I'm afraid you have no idea what he could do if he had control over you."

"Like what?" Harry asked, curious. Fudge had never struck him as particularly scheming or dangerous, just incredibly witless.

"Like use you to extend his term as Minister of Magic indefinitely."

"How could I help him do that?" Harry asked exasperatedly. "I didn't even kill Voldemort. I should be pretty worthless right now."

Lupin frowned at him. "Enough happened that people like Fudge could twist to their advantage. Don't forget, Harry, Voldermort possessed you, for however short a time."

"_So_?"

"So, Potter," said Snape from the doorway, "it would take very little to paint you as the new Dark Lord rising."

Harry burst out laughing. It was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard in his life.

Neither Snape nor Lupin cracked a smile, instead exchanging a dark look and then staring silently at him until Harry's laughter died in discomfort.

"You're joking," Harry said, as calmly as he could manage. "That's ridiculous."

"Is it?" Lupin said. "Fudge has only weeks left in office. Men in that position become desperate, Harry. Don't forget, Dumbledore was an unknown until popular lore painted him as a conquering hero over what was really a minor incident. And don't forget how many careers were made over unjust convictions of so-called Dark Wizards when Voldemort was at the height of his power. Sirius was only one."

Harry gulped, both anger and a shot of unease rising in his throat. "So, what? I get convicted and thrown into Azkaban, and Fudge gets a medal or something?"

"Something like that, Potter," Snape said. "With a little more finesse."

"And no Azkaban," Lupin put in harshly. "For you, anyway. Look, Harry, you're missing the point. This is not just about you. For one thing, Fudge has every reason to want the Order of the Phoenix discredited and disbanded. While it exists, the world will not forget Fudge's mishandling of things. The public sees only that Dumbledore was right, and Fudge is a failure. But Dumbledore is dead. People will forget. If he can silence those who have the most reason to remember..."

"Then _what_?" Harry exploded, half rising out of his seat. "People will just forget that Dumbledore got rid of Voldemort? That Fudge is a complete buffoon?"

"I should think," Snape said, glaring him down, "you would know by now that the public is indeed that fickle."

"Remember how quickly they turned against you, Harry?" Lupin asked, slightly more gently. "And that was mostly Rita Skeeter and Lucius Malfoy's orchestration. Two people. Fudge has dozens of power-hungry lackeys willing to do anything to keep him in office. Some of them control Fudge more than he controls them."

Harry folded his arms over his chest and clenched his jaw. It was so absurd, but...

"You have to understand," Lupin said, leaning toward him, "that there is no way we can let Fudge, or anyone else, near you. In a little while, Fudge will be out, and Rufus Scrimgeour will get a handle on things..."

"Who's Rufus Scrimgeour?"

"The next Minister of Magic."

Harry eyed him suspiciously. "Do we _like_ Rufus Scrimgeour?"

Lupin and Snape exchanged a look.

"We _don't like him_?" Harry demanded incredulously. "And somehow I'm supposed to feel secure knowing he's the next Minister?"

"Well," Lupin said, a little doubtfully, "we don't exactly... _dislike_... him."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Scrimgeour is an old war dog. Head of the Auror Office for many years. He had some ideas, mostly relating to Voldemort's return to power, that Dumbledore didn't necessarily think were worthwhile, but we don't think you would be in any danger from him. Most likely he would rather you faded quietly from public view, which is precisely the best thing for you, as well."

"I'm sure that's difficult for you to swallow, Potter," Snape added snidely.

Harry scowled. He would be perfectly happy if people would just forget he existed. He knew well, however, that one way or another he would be dragged into things somehow.

His eyes fell on another headline, next to which his own face, looking sulky and shifty-eyed, was plastered.

**HERO? YOU DECIDE**

He hated the whole bloody world.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry wished Snape would leave. There were a few things Harry really wanted to speak to Lupin about alone. Like that funeral. And whether Snape really had a kid.

Snape had settled into a chair and was glaring at a particularly bad picture of himself, which was under the headline, **RIGHT-HAND MAN, BUT TO WHOM?**

"More tea, Harry?"

Harry shook his head, and Lupin refilled only his own cup. Harry noticed his hands were still shaking slightly.

On second thought, considering what had happened the last time they talked about Sirius, maybe Harry wouldn't ask after all. What good would it do, anyway? Even if there had been a funeral, and Harry had missed it, there wasn't anything that could be done now.

And who cared if Snape had a kid? Aside from being curious, it made no difference to him.

He pushed his chair back and stood up. "I think I'll just turn in."

Snape ignored him, but Lupin put down his tea and stood up also. "I'll see you as far as your room."

Harry nodded, but looked at Lupin suspiciously out of the corner of his eyes as they headed for the stairs. Since when did he need an escort just to get to his bedroom?

"I thought you might have more questions for me," Lupin said, his voice forcibly light.

"No," Harry said quickly. "Not really."

"It must have come as a shock to learn so much all at once," Lupin continued as though not hearing him. "But I'm sure you understand now why I couldn't tell you the whole truth from the beginning. None of what you've learned serves any purpose except to be hurtful."

Harry mumbled something that he thought might be taken for agreement, but he didn't agree at all. He wanted to know everything that had to do with him, no matter how minor or even if it wasn't completely true, like some of the newspaper articles he had just looked at.

Lupin stopped suddenly, and Harry nearly walked into him.

"Are you very upset with me?"

Harry frowned. "What?"

But Lupin seemed serious, and was looking at him with a pained expression.

"Of course not," Harry said. "Why would I be?"

"I wouldn't blame you if you were," Lupin assured him, apparently not appeased. "It would be natural for you to be ang-"

"I'm _not_ upset," Harry interrupted irritably. Did Lupin _want_ to fight with him? "I just don't want to talk about any of it right now."

As he said it, he realized it wasn't true at all. He did want to talk, but talking about any of the things on his mind had never ended very well. And he _didn't_ want to upset Lupin again.

"Fine," he said grudgingly, picking out a question that he was reasonably sure wouldn't cause offense. "I want to know who was spotted at the train station, since it wasn't me."

Lupin relaxed slightly, and they set off up the stairs again. "It was Tonks. She's been very useful in all of this, as you can imagine."

"Oh." Harry reckoned he should have guessed that. "I wish I could do that. Then I wouldn't have to hide."

He sighed heavily, thinking about getting out of Grimmauld Place. Even shopping for school supplies would be a treat now.

"I could just go where I wanted, and no one would stare at me or... try to kill me. Or anything."

"Yes..." Lupin had slowed down, and was looking at Harry oddly. "That would certainly solve a lot of our problems. Just think, you could avoid all that unpleasantness with Fudge, and not have to watch your back at school."

Harry turned sharply, not sure if he'd heard right. "What do you mean, watch my back?"

"I'm afraid," Lupin said with a small, sad smile, "that just because Voldemort's gone does not mean you're entirely safe -"

Harry snorted. Yeah, having Aurors ransack Grimmauld Place looking for him was kind of a big clue.

"- even at Hogwarts."

"Great," Harry said with another sigh. Then he frowned. "Professor Lupin? You _did_ say I could go back to Hogwarts, right?"

Lupin hesitated.

Harry felt a jolt of panic. Of course. Everyone was looking for him, and according to the papers some thought he was _dangerous_. How _could_ he turn up at school?

"We're working on it, Harry," Lupin said finally, rubbing his hand over his eyes. "You'll just have to be patient. I can't tell you either way."

They had reached Harry's room, and Harry, feeling numb and incapable of speech, stumbled inside.

"I haven't had a chance to bring all of your things back," Lupin said, taking out his wand. "This will have to do for tonight."

The dust coating everything was banished and the blanket on the bed folded back invitingly.

Lupin hesitated, and then reached out to pat Harry on the shoulder. "I know it's been a long day. I have something for you."

He took a heavy parchment envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Harry.

Harry took it and stared at it and didn't open it. He knew what was inside by the shape and size.

"Good night, Harry," Lupin said, sounding pitying. "Try to catch up on lost sleep."

Harry waited for Lupin to shut the door behind him before sinking down on the bed. He pushed the envelope away from himself.

He felt very much like crying from frustration. Not even in his worst moments since coming to Grimmauld Place had he truly considered the possibility that he might not be able to go back to Hogwarts. Lupin had _told_ him he would be going back.

Now apparently none of that was true.

He shut his eyes for a few moments, until he felt like he could breathe again.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the envelope, lying where he had left it, impossible to ignore. Now that he had it, even though he knew what it would do to him, he had to open it.

The half-dozen photographs tumbled out onto the bed in front of him.

Taking his album from the bedside table, he turned the pages slowly, looking at each picture, until he came to the first blank page.

He slipped a photograph into its slot and traced the edges with one finger. Sirius looked up from among a mountain of half-wrapped gifts and grinned.

Sometimes Harry wondered why he tortured himself like this.

* * *

Harry woke up shivering and sweaty, the nightmare fading slowly as he blinked at his surroundings.

At least it was morning, and at least he hadn't been screaming.

The room was bare, so he had no reason to linger after washing up and dressing. He went downstairs, but found no one there and all the rooms dark except one. Snape was apparently already working.

He knocked softly, not sure if he was hoping Snape would open the door for him.

Snape did. His eyes narrowed, he looked down his nose at Harry with a look of particular distaste.

"What is it?"

"I can't find Professor Lupin," Harry said, and immediately felt pathetic for it.

"He left early this morning," Snape said coldly. "I would hope you are able to prepare your own breakfast."

"Yes, sir."

"Come back once you've had it," Snape said, already beginning to shut the door. "I wish to speak with you."

Harry stared at the closed door for a few moments before turning to go back to the kitchen. His appetite, which hadn't been great to start with, was now completely ruined.

He made some toast and drank the last of the pumpkin juice. It seemed like they were running low on a lot of things. He tried to convince himself that Lupin might have gone out for supplies.

He presented himself back at the library door and knocked.

"Inside, Potter."

Harry took a steadying breath and went in.

Snape was managing more than a dozen cauldrons, but at the moment it seemed that none required his attention. He motioned Harry toward a bench and waited until Harry had sat down.

"No doubt Lupin made himself scarce this morning in the hope that I would speak with you and take the task off his hands."

Harry clenched his teeth together.

"No doubt, also, that he would have done a shoddy job of it. It's for the best that we find ourselves alone, and I can make myself clear." Snape held up a glass containing a muddy green liquid. "You are familiar with Polyjuice, are you not?"

Harry nodded. Snape knew perfectly well that Harry was familiar with it.

"I have perfected a modification which will prevent the potion from wearing off until an antidote is taken."

Harry wasn't sure what he was expected to say, so he nodded again.

Snape looked irritated and put the potion down on the table rather hard. "Hogwarts is reopening."

Harry looked up, just barely swallowing the squeak of surprise that almost leaped from his lips. He had been under the impression the school would stay closed until the end of summer.

"Unless you're a complete fool, you will recognize that it would be best for us all to leave this house as soon as possible. However..." Snape paused, looking at Harry as though it were Harry's own fault. "It is not possible while the Ministry continues to search for you."

Something clicked in Harry's brain. "But... if I was disguised...?"

"Then we could return to Hogwarts, where accommodations will doubtlessly be more comfortable."

Harry opened his mouth to say that he would drink Snape's potion immediately, if that was the case, but something in the way Snape was looking at him made him stop. He frowned. "What's the catch?"

Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "The catch, Potter, is that neither Lupin nor I are quite prepared to trust you to carry off such a ruse."

Harry bristled. He didn't have any desire to be caught by the Ministry, and it hurt to think that Lupin believed he might give himself away on purpose. He expected it of Snape, of course.

"Before I even tell you what we are considering, let me outline the rules you would have to follow." Snape gave him a very hard look, as if expecting Harry to protest at the mere mention of rules. "You would, at all times, maintain your new identity." He glared at Harry again. "You would not speak to any former friends unless given specific permission to do so."

Harry waited, but it seemed Snape had only those two rules on his list. "Er... I can do that. I'd really like to go back to Hogwarts."

He didn't expect Snape to bring his hand slamming down on the table like a clap of thunder, making everything rattle.

"_THIS IS NOT A GAME, POTTER_!"

Harry stared at him with apprehension. He really hated when Snape's eyes gleamed in that horrible way; it reminded him too much of Uncle Vernon.

"I know it isn't, sir," he said quietly. His voice trembled slightly.

Snape approached him - stalked over to him, more like - making Harry want to abandon the bench.

"You would cease to exist," Snape said in a deadly, low tone, bending close enough that Harry felt his breath on his face. "You would no longer be a Gryffindor. You would no longer be famous -"

"Do you think I care about that?" Harry exploded. "I get it! If anyone finds out you and Lupin have me, you'll go to Azkaban and I'll go to Fudge! I GET IT!"

There was such a silence, and Snape was staring at him with such a pale, thin-lipped expression, that Harry for a moment really feared he might have gone too far.

"Sir," he said more quietly. "I wouldn't do anything stupid."

"You've done something stupid every year that you have been at Hogwarts," Snape said, his face still a stony mask that Harry knew had to be hiding rage. "Forgive me if I fail to be reassured."

"I know," Harry said, swallowing. It cost him to say it. "I know I have."

Snape let out a slow breath, still glaring at him. "I want to believe that you would not be foolish enough to give yourself away on purpose. Lupin suggested that you would be most likely to do so to reassure your friends."

Harry hesitated, for a moment imagining what it might be like to have Ron and Hermione ignore him because when they looked at him they saw someone else. "But... they won't be at Hogwarts now, will they?"

"Not now, no," Snape said. "It is possible, however, that classes will have started before it would be safe for you to abandon your disguise."

Harry swallowed and thought again about being an outcast among his own friends.

"Well?"

Harry thought of staying at Grimmauld Place for the rest of summer... and perhaps into the school year. Those were his options, weren't they? That was why Snape was telling him all of this, and why Lupin wouldn't give him an answer last night when he asked if he would be going back to Hogwarts.

"Well?"

"I can do it," Harry said, trying to sound sure. "I mean, I have to, don't I? I can't go back to Hogwarts otherwise."

Snape's eyes bore into him for several very long minutes. "I assume you understand that your disguise would have to be one that would arouse the least suspicion? A new student starting Hogwarts would be promptly investigated."

Harry nodded... and then experienced another breakthrough. "Wait... you can't mean...?"

Snape's lips thinned even more, and his eyes narrowed even more dangerously.

Harry choked back the lump that rose in his throat. "I'd have to be your son, wouldn't I?"

* * *

Lupin found him sitting with his knees drawn up to his chin in one of the rigid armchairs in the parlor.

"Harry?" He flicked the lights on, and looked at Harry with a slight frown. "Is something wrong?"

_Yes, just about everything._

But he just shook his head.

Lupin took a few steps into the room and then hesitated. "I'm sorry I left without telling you. I thought you could use the sleep, and I did leave quite early this morning."

"S'okay."

Lupin had come as far as the other armchair and sat gingerly down, as if he expected Harry to explode any minute. "Is something wrong? Did something happen?"

"-"

"_Slowly_, please, Harry."

Harry sighed. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. He should have gone to his room, really, because he just wanted to be alone, but he was sick of his room... and maybe, deep down, he did want Lupin to feel guilty for leaving him with Snape that morning.

"Professor Snape told me about Hogwarts."

Lupin jerked back, his expression flashing through several variations of surprise and anger. His voice, when he spoke, was guarded. "Did he?"

Having Lupin look at him like that didn't make Harry feel better at all, and he suddenly felt petty and childish.

"It's all right, really. I just thought -"

"And you're right," Lupin said, not letting him finish. "You should have heard it from me. I don't know why he felt it was necessary to tell you this morning." He sighed. "I suppose it's done now. How do you feel about it?"

Harry didn't really know. Snape had made it sound like he was making a great sacrifice in agreeing to give up his ability to badger and berate Harry in public... Harry didn't doubt that it was exactly that, for Snape.

"I told him I thought I could do it," he said truthfully, "but I don't know."

Lupin sat back in his chair and sighed again. "It's a difficult proposition, I know. Having to give up your identity -"

"I don't care about that," Harry said hotly. Not Lupin, too. Did _everyone_ think Harry enjoyed his fame so much? "I was just thinking about my friends and not being able to... well, be friends with them anymore. I don't care about anything else!"

"I... I imagine you would be able to let them know, eventually," Lupin said hesitantly. "I can't promise you this -"

_Good_, Harry thought. _Because your promises don't seem to be worth very much lately_.

He immediately felt sick with himself.

"- but once we see how things are, it may be safe."

Harry nodded glumly, not believing him.

"And it's only for a short time," Lupin continued. "I know that when you're young, a few months can seem like an eternity, but think of all the things you will be able to do meanwhile."

Harry looked up at him, frowning. "Like what?"

"You said you wanted to go out and not be stared at, didn't you? Think about going to Diagon Alley, or to Hogsmeade, and not have to worry."

Harry perked up slightly, but only until he realized that the first Hogsmeade weekend wasn't likely to be until November, at least, and that Lupin's 'a few months' estimate was just another half-lie to try to make him feel better.

After a short silence, Lupin seemed to despair of making Harry feel better by gentle persuasion, and switched tactics.

"Unfortunately, we don't have very many options. Both Professor Snape and I will have to leave for Hogwarts within the next few weeks to begin preparations for the new term, and of course there is no question of leaving you here by yourself. If you don't feel up to this, we will need to find a different arrangement."

"I want to go to Hogwarts," Harry said quickly, even though he knew perfectly well that Lupin was already aware of that.

Lupin smiled at him, though it was a rather stiff smile. "I know you do, but we have to think of your safety first... and then of our own. A lot of people would be endangered should this fail. Do you think, for example, that the Ministry would believe McGonagall did not know what was going on? Do you think they would believe that your friends had not been let in on it?"

Harry ducked his head, not wanting Lupin to see whatever expression he could feel forming on his face. He didn't appreciate being manipulated like this, and Lupin was repeating what Snape had already said. It hurt to have his feelings for his friends be used against him, and he hadn't expected it from Lupin.

"Harry?"

"I understand," Harry said, finally looking up when he thought he had regained control. "I know this is a good plan, and I would try really hard not to let you down."

Lupin smiled at him, a genuine smile this time, and reached out to ruffle his hair. "I know you would. And I will be there, don't forget."

That, however, just reminded Harry of something else he had been thinking of.

"But you won't be, will you? I mean, if I'm Snape's son, you don't have any reason to talk to me outside of class."

Lupin's smile slid right back to its forced counterpart. "I don't believe that would be an issue."

"Huh?" Harry said, and then, remembering the thing he had been trying not to dwell on - the thing between Lupin and Snape that should never have happened - he dropped his head and cringed. "Oh... yeah."

Lupin stood up, rather hastily if you asked Harry. "Well, I don't know if you've had lunch, but I think I'll go see about it. If you'd go wash up, I can have something on the table by the time you're ready, and we can continue our conversation over a hot meal. I'm sure that would be the best course of action."

Harry hadn't been hungry that whole morning, and wasn't sure there was anything left to discuss, but he nodded. "All right."

Lupin left, looking more than a little relieved. Harry scowled after him.

Why was it that he was always being given choices that weren't choices at all?

* * *

"Again."

Harry sighed. "My mother's name was Beatrice Carmichael. My grandmother was Dorothy Carmichael. My grandfather was Daniel Carmichael. I grew up in -"

"That's enough, Severus," Lupin said quietly. "He's got it."

Harry sighed again, this time with relief that he could finally stop.

Snape was giving him an ugly look, and Harry tried not to meet his eyes.

Lupin patted Harry's back and picked up the glass containing the potion. "Are you ready?"

Harry eyed the lumpy potion one last time and nodded.

His things were packed into a battered, old-fashioned steamer trunk with peeling letters spelling out SNAPE across one side. Lupin had gone through his things and removed anything he thought was too obviously Harry's, and that left Harry with nothing but some old textbooks, quills, and half-used potions supplies. Lupin was going to keep everything else for him.

They were going to Diagon Alley to pick up the rest of what he would need, and meanwhile he was wearing his own jeans paired with an ill-fitting and scratchy cardigan that Lupin had found for him. The only way Harry could stand to wear it was by imagining that it could have belonged to Sirius when he had been a boy.

Lupin handed him the glass, and Harry forced himself to stop breathing long enough to down the contents. It didn't help very much; the taste was even more foul than he remembered.

He had been preparing for the awful feeling of his limbs being deformed and his face melting like wax, but there was only a tingly, stretchy feeling, like his skin was trying to grow to accommodate the flesh underneath. His vision blurred.

"I don't think you need these," Lupin said, removing Harry glasses and tucking them into his pocket. "Well... come look."

Harry, who had been trying to avoid precisely that, and had been staring resolutely at the wall, allowed Lupin to pull him in the direction of the mirror.

He took a breath, raised his head, and looked.

Snape's son, unmistakably, looked back.


	8. Chapter 8

It was almost over before it even started.

They had arrived at Hogwarts just as the sun was setting behind the Forbidden Forest, and after showing Harry to a room in an unfamiliar part of the dungeons, Snape and Lupin left him to unpack.

He hadn't been told to stay put. As far as he knew, the castle was practically empty. And so, after stowing his new clothes in the chest of drawers and his books on top of the desk, he left the room and wandered upstairs with the vague intention of seeing the Great Hall.

Coming up the dungeon stairs, he turned the corner and collided with a boy coming from the opposite direction.

"Ron!"

It was out of his mouth as automatically as breathing.

"Weasley!" he said quickly. "You're Ron Weasley, aren't you?"

Ron's expression, which had been rather shocked, now changed to suspicion. "Who the bloody hell are you?" He looked at Harry critically, his eyes wandering from the top of Harry's head down to the toes of his shiny black leather boots. "Wait a minute..."

"Hadrian Carmichael - I mean - Hadrian Snape... Hadrian Carmichael Snape." Harry forced his face reluctantly into a glare. "You didn't answer my question."

Ron's face had now contorted into a very ugly expression. "None of your business who I am!"

"Then get out of my way," Harry said as nastily as he could. His heart had sunk into his stomach and was aching dully.

"YOU knocked into ME!" Ron snarled, his fists clenching.

Harry stuck his chin out and barreled past Ron, making sure to clip his shoulder - but not hard.

He half expected to be hit, or hexed, from behind.

"I don't _believe_ this," Ron muttered angrily. Harry heard his stomping footsteps heading in the opposite direction; no doubt Ron was off to tell his siblings all about the encounter.

Harry's shoulders slumped. Ron was rather thick, and in his fury wouldn't remember Harry's blunder, but having to be nasty to his best friend left him feeling absolutely awful.

He'd been afraid it would be hard to be ignored by his friends, who wouldn't know who he was, but he hadn't even thought to fear being hated by them. Now that seemed stupid of him. Of course they would. He was Snape's son, and if Snape didn't relent, he would be a Slytherin besides. They'd have two good reasons to despise him... and now he had given Ron a third by having to cover his mistake with nastiness.

He was angry with Snape and Lupin, too. Why hadn't he been warned that Ron's family was hiding out at Hogwarts? They should have told him, and then this wouldn't have happened.

The more he thought along those lines, the angrier he got.

If he had introduced himself to Ron under very different circumstances, maybe Ron could have overlooked the fact that Harry now looked like a miniature Snape. They might be here until school started, and that was quite a lot of time. They could have become friends just because they were the same age and stuck in the same place with not much to do. Instead, Harry had ruined it all less than an hour after arriving at Hogwarts.

"Hadrian!"

Harry's fingers curled into fists and he spun around, ready to give Lupin a piece of his mind.

But Lupin looked pale and upset, and Harry's rage dulled.

Lupin pulled him into the small chamber off the Entrance Hall and shut the door behind them.

"I just saw - I had no idea - did you - ?"

Harry drew in a resigned breath. "Yeah, I ran into Ron. No, I didn't blow my cover."

Lupin shut his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he was calmer, and looked apologetic. "I didn't know they were here. He seemed quite angry..."

"Yeah, well -" Harry shrugged stiffly, unable to continue because he knew he couldn't keep his temper in check.

"I'm sorry about this," Lupin said, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry threw the hand off. "How could you not know?" he asked accusingly. "You told me you knew they were all right! How could you say that when you didn't even know where they were!"

Lupin stepped back, a hint of anger creeping over his own face. "I knew they were all right because I was in contact with those who were making sure they _would_ be all right. The fewer people who knew the details, the safer the Weasleys would be, so, yes, their exact location was not known to me."

Harry glared at him for another few moments, but what Lupin said did make sense. Huffing, he hugged his arms around himself.

"Well, this is just great. Ron thinks I'm a big jerk now."

"That..." Lupin hesitated, looking at Harry as though weighing how likely he was to blow up again. "That may be the best thing for now. We need your friends to believe that you are who we say you are, at least until the danger has passed."

Harry nodded glumly. Leave it to Lupin to come up with a reason why it was for the best if Harry was despised by everyone.

"A light supper is being served," Lupin said, obviously determined to change the subject. "Let's get something to eat and then we can decide how we'll handle things."

"Are _they_ going to be there?" Harry asked warily. He didn't think he could stand seeing Ron again just then.

"I don't know."

Harry figured that was honest, at least. He nodded dejectedly. "Fine. Let's go."

Lupin pulled open the door - revealing Snape behind it.

Harry almost groaned.

"_Well_?" Snape demanded.

"It's fine, Severus," Lupin said quickly. "It's been taken care of."

Snape muttered something about idiots and incompetency, turned on his heel, and stalked off.

Harry let go of the breath he'd unconsciously started to hold, expecting some sort of explosion.

He followed Lupin silently to the Great Hall, where a table had been set for three.

Snape was already sitting down, and had taken the middle seat, and Harry had no choice but to sit down next to him.

It was a silent meal, until Snape set down his fork with a clang.

"We will meet in my office to discuss damage control."

With that, he pushed back his chair and swept out of the Great Hall with his black robes billowing behind him.

"Damage control?" Harry repeated incredulously in the silence that followed Snape's exit.

Lupin sighed.

Harry waited, but Lupin didn't volunteer anything.

"I guess the plan didn't take into account the Weasleys might be here?"

"No," Lupin said shortly. He pushed away his empty plate and poured himself tea.

Harry picked at his food. He hasn't been very hungry to begin with, but now, with Ron on his mind, everything he put in his mouth tasted bitter.

"Are you planning to finish?" Lupin asked, putting down his empty cup. "You hardly eat enough to keep a bird alive."

Harry scowled. Lupin wasn't one to talk.

"Fine, then. In that case, let's go see what's expected of us."

Harry followed him down to the dungeons. Snape's office door was closed, but light shone from beneath indicating that Snape was inside.

Lupin knocked, and the door opened immediately.

"Sit," Snape said.

Harry looked around even as he took a seat on the hard visitor's bench - Lupin got the cushioned chair.

The office was about as he remembered it, but there were signs of things having been moved around. There were several packing boxes that seemed to be full of books, and empty spaces on the bookshelf suggested they had either been packed up or had not yet been unpacked. Snape's desk was cluttered with unopened mail and old newspapers.

"I want to know _exactly_ what transpired between you and Ronald Weasley."

Harry looked up, lips pursed. The last thing he wanted to do was to tell Snape how he had almost blown the whole plan.

"Well?"

"I ran into him," Harry said, figuring it was useless to argue. "He was coming the other way and we bumped into each other."

"And?"

Harry hesitated. This was probably something Snape and Lupin would want - or maybe even need - to know, but he had handled it, hadn't he?

"POTTER!"

Harry looked up and glared at him, swiftly deciding that if he was going to be yelled at anyway, he wasn't going to make it worse.

This was the wrong thing to do.

The moment their eyes met, his head swam and Snape's office dissolved like a reflection on the surface of the lake after a stone had been thrown in. The whole scene in the Entrance Hall played out like a movie in front of his eyes.

"AAAAAaarrghhhh!" He wrenched his mind out of Snape's snare and dropped his head into his hands. "Bastard!"

There was silence.

Had he actually said that out loud?

He looked up cautiously and found both Snape and Lupin looking at him with distaste.

"Sorry," he mumbled before he could stop himself. That made him even angrier. Why should he apologize? He hadn't started it!

They turned away from him.

"It isn't as bad as I expected," Snape told Lupin. "Still, the Weasleys will have reason to be suspicious."

"Should we move up our plans?"

"Yes."

Harry, who did not like being ignored, looked from one to another and glared, but refused to ask them what that was about and give them the satisfaction of knowing he cared.

"Harry?"

Harry tried to stop glaring.

"How would you like to speak to Ron? As yourself, of course."

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. What was Lupin talking about? "Of course I would."

"One way we planned to alleviate suspicions was by having Harry Potter and Hadrian Snape be spotted in the same place at the same time. Since clearly it is not possible for one person to do this, witnesses would be left with no doubt that Harry and Hadrian are two different boys."

"Great," Harry said gruffly, not entirely prepared to trust that they would really let him meet with his friends.

"We were going to do this once school started, perhaps when Fudge showed up - he most certainly will be curious about you - but it seems it's necessary to convince the Weasleys of your identity first. Do you think you're up for it?"

"What do I have to do?" It did seem like a good plan, and if it let him meet with Ron, even for just a little while...

Lupin exchanged a look with Snape before answering.

"Well, we can have you meet with Ron in Hagrid's hut, since that's connected to Hogwarts' own Foo. You can tell him you're in hiding, catch up for an hour or so, and then floo directly to Professor Snape's office. Meanwhile, Tonks will make sure Ron runs into Hadrian -"

"And make him hate me even more," Harry muttered under his breath.

Lupin frowned at him.

"Oh, all right," Harry said, huffing. "Sounds like a plan."

Lupin studied him for a moment, as if trying to convince himself that the whole thing wasn't a mistake.

"I can do it," Harry said peevishly.

"I know you can," Lupin said, even as Snape snorted. "All we need is a way to get Ron, and Ron alone, to Hagrid's."

"We will discuss those details later," Snape said. He was scowling, leaving no doubt that the plan didn't entirely agree with him. "I will set the Floo to activate half an hour after Weasley enters the hut -"

"Half an hour!" Harry exclaimed. "That's -"

"Plenty," Snape said suppressively. "Any longer and you will no doubt give too much away."

Harry clenched his teeth and didn't retort.

"Tomorrow after breakfast, then?" Lupin asked.

Snape nodded.

"In that case, I think it's time for him to turn in."

Harry scowled at the floor, not liking one bit being talked about in the third person as though he wasn't even there.

"Come on, Harry," Lupin said, catching him under the arm and pulling him to his feet. "It's getting quite late."

Harry allowed himself to be led back to his room. He still wasn't totally oriented, and the dungeon corridors all looked the same.

"Where are you going to be?" he asked, looking around for signs of another habitable room along the same hallway. All he saw were unused classrooms. His own room seemed to be a converted office.

Lupin fumbled with the big iron key that opened Harry's door. Apparently it required his whole concentration.

Harry sighed and gritted his teeth. "Fine. Where're Snape's quarters?"

Lupin pushed the door open and practically shoved him inside. "Back the way we came, near the bust of William the Wronged. Good night, Hadrian."

"Good night," Harry repeated grudgingly, staring at Lupin's back until he disappeared around the corner.

Finally, he went in and shut the door. A lamp had lighted as soon as he did so, and he looked around the small space, which was still unfamiliar.

He hadn't fully unpacked, and now he needed his pajamas, towel, and toothbrush. He rifled through his steamer trunk to find them.

He came up with his Invisibility Cloak instead.

It was the only thing he had been allowed to keep of his own possessions, just in case he ever needed it to keep from being discovered.

Maybe...

But he shoved it under the mattress, willing himself to not even think of wandering around the castle when he wasn't supposed to. Who knew what other surprises, besides the Weasley family, there might be?

Besides, he could wander the castle all he wanted, without a disguise, as Hadrian Carmichael Snape.

He found the things he needed, and headed for the bathroom.

Seeing himself in the mirror still gave him a bit of a shock.

No wonder Ron had stared at him like that. The clothes Snape had bought for him made him look paler, thinner, and more Snape-like. His hair seemed longer now that it was straight, and hung over his ears limply. He hadn't needed glasses since taking the potion back at Grimmauld Place.

He couldn't help wondering where the real Hadrian Carmichael was, and what he was like. Did he even know he had a father, and that his father was a greasy git who loved to frighten and berate children?

It occurred to him that Hadrian Carmichael might not even exist. The idea of Snape having a son was so ridiculous that Harry wouldn't have been surprised at all if the whole thing had been made up, perhaps for the sole purpose of providing Harry with a new identity until the Ministry stopped looking for him.

But then, whose face was looking out at him from the mirror?

Harry suffered through a mostly sleepless night. Aside from the nightmare that had him wide awake, sweaty, and shaking by half past three in the morning, his new surroundings made it hard to keep his mind clear. Even as he tried to get back to sleep, his eyes kept opening and darting around the small room, taking in all the unfamiliar features: the rough stone walls, the slanted ceiling overhead, the heavy, dark wood furniture...

He supposed he would have to decorate the room somehow. The unadorned walls were giving him an odd, claustrophobic feeling of being in a dungeon cell. There was a single, long window up near the ceiling, too high up to reach and look out of. Aside from the books he had stacked on top of the desk and the clothes he had draped over a chair, there were no signs of the room being inhabited by a teenage boy.

He really missed having his parents looking out at him from their photograph on his bedside table. He hadn't realized just how much of a comfort it had been during long sleepless nights.

Morning finally came - Harry knew it because a ray of light managed to shine through the window and throw a rosy glow over the far wall.

He was about to get dressed when there came a light knock at his door.

Wondering if he should draw his wand, he pulled the door open anyway.

"I wasn't sure if you would be up this early," said Lupin, who was carrying a bundle wrapped in brown paper.

"I'm up." He stood back to let Lupin in, and shut the door after him.

"This is for you." Lupin offered him the bundle. "Tonks will wear the same black shirt and green cloak when she plays her part as Hadrian. Wear dark slacks and the same boots you wore yesterday. You'll change before meeting with Ron. I left your glasses and a red jumper in Professor Snape's office, and your old trainers as well."

Harry nodded, swallowing. As much as he wanted to spend time with Ron, he felt vaguely uncomfortable with the whole plan.

"Everyone will be having breakfast in the Great Hall," Lupin continued. "We have arranged for an owl to arrive for Professor Snape shortly before the meal is over. He will pull you aside under the pretense of needing to speak with you urgently. You will exchange places with Tonks at that time, and floo to Hagrid's hut from Professor Snape's office. We will send Ron in as soon as breakfast is over."

"Okay," Harry said. He hesitated for a moment. "Professor... would it be all right if I told Ron... well... I was thinking..."

"Yes?"

"Would it be all right if I told him I met me - I mean Hadrian - over the summer, and if I told him I thought Hadrian was someone he should get to know?"

Lupin frowned.

"It was just an idea," Harry said, disappointed in spite of knowing all along it was a long shot.

"Well..." Lupin said, still frowning. "I suppose it's possible Professor Snape would have invited his son to visit him once or twice, but I'm not sure how much opportunity you would have had to meet. Remember, it was not supposed to be known to anyone that you were at Grimmauld Place with us."

"But -" Harry interjected, "I was probably being a nosy idiot again, and somehow made a mess of staying out of sight, and we met -"

"I will speak with Professor Snape," Lupin said with finality. "I will let you know if this will compromise any of our plans. Remember, Harry, we don't want to put Ron in the dangerous position of knowing too much about where you were after your official disappearance.

Harry nodded glumly. If it was up to Snape, he could just forget it. And Lupin was right. Telling Ron that he had met Hadrian meant taking away any doubt that he had been in hiding with Snape and Lupin. If Ron was ever questioned, he wouldn't be able to deny knowing it.

"There's one more thing."

Harry looked up.

"You will be taking a potion to return you to your usual appearance. Because the potion you took to become Hadrian Snape was so powerful, the antidote cannot work in one dose and will only last one hour, making it absolutely imperative that you take the floo back to Professor Snape's office as soon as it activates."

"Do I have an hour, then?"

"Not quite. You will have to wait for Ron to arrive, and you will leave before the hour is up, just to be on the safe side."

Harry sighed.

"It can't be helped, Harry. Remember, we are just trying to alleviate suspicions. Once that's done, we may be able to give you much more time with your friends."

"I got it. Really," Harry said, slightly peevishly. He was a bit tired of everything being for the greater good.

"Wash up -" Lupin's eyes trailed over Harry's head. "You might want to wash your hair." He paused. "And comb it. Breakfast is in one hour. Will you be able to find your own way?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess."

"It's quite simple. Just follow the main corridor until you come to a portrait of Bathsheba the Beady-eyed, turn right, right again at the next fork, past William the Wronged, another right, and you will see Professor Snape's office."

"Okay," Harry said, though not at all sure he'd got all that. "I'll see you there."

"You will have to keep using the key for now. I'll ask the Headmistress to have a password set."

"Okay," Harry said again. "It's not a problem."

"In case we don't get to speak freely again - good luck today."

Harry nodded.

Lupin left, and Harry spent the next half hour scrubbing his hair and combing out the tangles. If Hadrian Carmichael existed, Harry felt very sorry for him. Snape's hair had to be the worst thing to inherit. He supposed it was only by sheer luck that the nose hadn't been passed down in all its glory.

He dressed, following Lupin's instructions carefully.

Getting out of the dungeons proved more difficult than expected, and having taken a wrong turn somewhere he was starting to wonder what Snape would do to him if he failed to show up on time. He was feeling stirrings of panic when he turned the corner and walked into the marble pedestal on which rested the bust of William the Wronged.

"Ow!"

The pain in his elbow causing his eyes to water, he stumbled on, and a few minutes later was passing Snape's office.

At least he knew the way from there, and in no time at all he was out of the dungeons.

As he crossed the Entrance Hall, he heard sounds behind him which could only be made by a crowd of people coming down the staircase. He quickened his pace.

A long table had been set at the far end of the Great Hall, and Snape, Lupin, and McGonagall were already seated. Harry stopped short when he saw another occupied seat.

Ginny.

They all looked up at him, and he quickly tore his eyes away from the ugly scar and eye patch over the left side of her face. He focused on Lupin's small but unmistakably encouraging smile and made it to an empty seat next to Snape without meeting anyone else's eyes.

Unfortunately, he wasn't even given time to catch his breath, which seemed to have been knocked right out of him.

"Hadrian, I want you to meet someone," Lupin said lightly. "This is Ginny Weasley. Ginny, this is Professor Snape's son, Hadrian Sn-"

"Hadrian Carmichael Snape," Harry interrupted with a scowl. Somehow being that one step away from a Snape was comforting. He was sure the real Hadrian wouldn't be in any hurry to abandon his mother's name, either.

"Yes," Lupin said, giving Harry a hard look. "Well, I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to get to know one another, seeing that classes won't be starting for a while yet."

Ginny was looking at him with curiosity, but anything she might have said was interrupted by the arrival of the rest of the Weasleys.

Harry stared straight at his plate and refused to look at anyone, other than to jerk his chin up when Snape introduced him to one and all.

He wasn't sure why he was in such a black mood. They had to be getting a very bad impression of him. And it made no sense to be acting as though he wanted nothing to do with any of them, since Hadrian Carmichael had no reason whatsoever to dislike the Weasleys, and would, most likely, be unaware of his father's unpopularity with them, or of the intense rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor.

Still, he couldn't seem to do anything but glower at his plate until an owl landing on the table in front of him and nearly soaking him with a spray of spilled pumpkin juice caused him to jerk back in his seat.

Snape removed the thin roll of parchment from the owl's leg and unrolled it, reading silently for a few moments.

"Hadrian," he said, standing, "I wish to speak with you. Come."

Harry got up and followed him, his heart beginning to hammer in his chest.

Snape led him to the Entrance Hall, positioning them so that Harry was certain the others could still see them.

He spoke in a low tone.

"Two goblets are waiting in my office. The silver will change your appearance for one hour. The bronze will change you back when you return. You have precisely one hour from the moment you drink the potion in the silver goblet. Is that perfectly clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"As soon as you have returned, change your clothes and be ready to leave my office, but do not open the door for anyone. Either I or Lupin will come for you when it is time. You are not to leave my office until then."

Harry nodded.

Snape glared at him in an appraising sort of way, which made Harry's skin crawl.

"You may, if you so desire, tell Weasley that you spent one or two evenings in the company of -" Snape stopped and glared at him harder. "Do not mention where this meeting took place; disabuse him of the notion that it was at Grimmauld Place. The Order has moved headquarters several times over the summer. Imply I brought him to a meeting. Do not -" and he glared harder still, "- overstep yourself. Weasley will only become suspicious if ordered to befriend a stranger... and a Slytherin besides."

"I don't order my friends around," Harry muttered angrily under his breath.

Snape's hand came down on his shoulder, hard.

"I won't," Harry said. "Sir."

"Go now," Snape said, his mouth a thin white line. "And attempt not to do anything inordinately foolish."

Harry nodded and turned to go. He turned to look back once, and found Snape watching him with his arms crossed over his chest.

He was coming down the dungeon stairs when he ran into Tonks.

She said nothing, but smiled, and as they passed each other her face morphed sickeningly into the face of Hadrian Carmichael Snape.

Harry forced his feet to continue forward, and quickly reached Snape's office. He shut the door after himself, and looked around.

The two goblets were indeed there, along with the clothes he was supposed to change into, his glasses, and a note.

He stripped off his black cloak and shirt and shrugged into the comfortable old Weasley sweater. He exchanged his shiny new boots for Dudley's ratty trainers. He felt instantly a lot more like himself.

He looked at the note, which was short and in Lupin's careful handwriting.

_The Floo powder is on the mantle.  
Simply say "Hagrid's" and you  
will be taken there. Do not attempt  
to activate a return Floo - it will  
activate at a predetermined time._

_Be mindful of what you say._

He crumpled up the note and left it next to his discarded clothing. He took up the silver goblet, which was warm in his hand, and tried not to breathe as he downed the contents in one mighty swallow.

The thick mass slid down his throat and hit his stomach like a rock, and immediately his skin began to creep and stretch in that terrible way he was sure no one could ever become accustomed to.

When the awful feeling stopped, everything was blurred, and Harry fumbled around Snape's desk, knocking several things to the floor, until he found his glasses.

There was no mirror in Snape's office, but a shiny silver platter let him take in his new appearance.

He ruffled his fingers through his hair, and it predictably poked up every which way. It seemed slightly longer, but not noticeably so.

The Floo powder was where Lupin had said it would be, and he took a handful.

"Hagrid's!"

The green fire consumed him, and Snape's office spun out of view.


	9. Chapter 9

He hated flooing.

He was reminded just how much he hated it when he was deposited right on top of a pile of dirty dishes, scattering spoons and teacups all over the dirt floor.

He picked himself up, the sound of clattering china and a dog's pitiful yelps ringing in his ears. Fang had dived under the bed, raising up a cloud of dust.

"It's... er... just me," Harry said, feeling foolish. "You can come out."

Fang didn't.

Harry pulled out a chair and sat down to wait.

He couldn't help looking at the clock, watching as the hands crept along.

What if Ron didn't make it, and he had to go back without even talking with him? Or what if they only had a few minutes together?

He wished he could look out the window to see if Ron was coming, but he didn't think that would be a good idea.

The door was flung open suddenly. "Here Fang! I brought you a bo- HARRY!"

Harry, who had got to his feet quickly, was almost knocked backwards by the force of the taller boy launching himself at him.

"Ron! Hang on, let me breathe..."

Ron let go, looking sheepish. "All right there, mate?"

"Yeah." Harry grinned. "It's great to see you."

Ron stared at him. "No joking. Where the hell have you been?"

Harry shrugged. "Around. You know. For my own good, and all that."

"Dad said -" Ron stopped and shook his head. "Forget it. Just tell me everything."

"Not much to tell, really. I had to leave the Dursleys' in a hurry. I can't tell you where I'm staying right now, but it hasn't been very exciting."

"All of us were mad worried when we heard Grimmauld Place had been ransacked. Is that where you were?"

"No. I hadn't even heard. Makes sense they'd look for me there, though." Harry looked away, feeling terrible about having to lie to Ron, even if it couldn't be helped.

He noticed a big bone lying forgotten on the floor. "Hey, were you going to feed Fang?"

"Lupin told me..." Ron rolled his eyes. "_Now_ I get it."

"So Lupin's here? He's teaching for sure?" Harry asked. If he wasn't supposed to have spent much time with Lupin, he figured a little curiosity was in order.

"Teaching?" Ron repeated, frowning. "I don't know anything about that. He is here though."

"And your family - you've been here all this time?"

Ron nodded. "It's great, really. I can use magic, for one thing!"

As if to prove it, he took out his wand and levitated Fang's abandoned bone toward the bed. Fang stuck his muzzle out just long enough to snatch the bone out of the air.

Harry laughed nervously. A sudden thought had sprung into his mind.

They hadn't even considered his wand. He was carrying his new wand. Or, he should say, the old spare Snape had provided. His old wand had been hidden; Lupin hadn't even told him where.

He had to wonder how may other little details might have been forgotten or had escaped notice. This time it was just Ron, but next time it might be someone who could make real trouble for all of them.

"Bill and Charlie might be teaching this year," Ron went on. "Can you imagine that?"

Harry shook his head.

"Mum's excited, of course."

Harry snickered. He could easily imagine _that_.

"You know Dad had to hex Percy? The bloody git wouldn't come with us -"

Ron's expression turned dark, and he scowled at the wall.

"What?" Harry asked finally.

"Oh, nothing. I don't want to talk about that greasy git when we don't know when we'll get to talk again."

Harry looked at the clock. "About that... I have to leave in twenty minutes, Ron."

"WHAT?"

"I know it. It was hard enough arranging this. Anyway, what did Snape do?"

Ron kept frowning, and shook his head. "It's not _Snape_, it's his bloody _kid_."

"Oh," Harry said as casually as he could. "You mean Hadrian?"

Ron goggled at him.

"We met," Harry said, shrugging. "Snape brought him to an Order meeting once."

Ron's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "Don't talk like... like you _like_ the git!"

Harry shrugged again. "He's was right, I thought. Why?"

"Well, he... he..." Ron sputtered. "He bumped into me last night... rude as all hell... and just now he wanted to know where I was going, the nosy greaseball!"

Harry sighed a little, realizing it was hopeless.

Ron didn't notice. He had jerked the edge of the curtain back and was peering out of the window. "There, look."

Harry moved to stand next to him and looked out cautiously through the dirty glass.

Tonks was going a bit too far in impersonating Snape's son. Hadrian was currently making a fool of himself stalking the edge of the lake kicking stones into the water.

"Oh, who cares?" Harry said grumpily. "Let's not waste any more time."

He dragged Ron back to the table and they sat down.

"You probably know more about what's going on than I do. Where's Hermione?"

Ron looked like he wasn't quite ready to abandon the subject of Snape's offspring, but didn't insist. "Not sure. For all we know she's in hiding too, and we just haven't been told about it. A lot of strange things going on lately..."

_Isn't that the truth_, Harry thought.

"I had a letter from her two days ago. If I'd known I was going to see you, I would have brought it."

"That's okay," Harry said. "I had one too. Short one, just telling me not to write if it wasn't safe."

Ron nodded. "They told me not to write to you. Owls would just get hurt for nothing."

"Hedwig..." Harry started, Lupin's admission that letters had been intercepted springing to his mind. "Hedwig hasn't been hurt, has she?"

"No, mate, she's all right," Ron said quickly. "Came back with some singed feathers once, and we haven't let her out since. She's even staying in my room, with Pig."

"Thanks, Ron."

Ron waved him off.

Harry frowned. "I did have a letter from you, though. I only got it a few days ago, but it was the one where you told me your family was going to Egypt."

Ron looked uncomfortable. "I didn't write that, mate. I just copied it out."

"Oh," Harry said, feeling deflated. "Well, I had figured everything it in was a lie." Seeing that Ron was still avoiding eye contact, he hurriedly changed the subject. "What's been happening at Hogwarts?"

"Not very much, to tell you the truth." Ron wrinkled his nose. "House-elves have up and left. Most of them, anyway. Mum's making us help clean. Half of it's left over from Fred and George's big exit, and she's laying the guilt on thick." He paused, and the corner of his mouth quirked up impishly. "They'll be here this year, you know. Fred and George, I mean. Mum pitched a fit. McGonagall's letting them repeat."

"Oh no," Harry said, grinning. "I bet they don't like that much."

"Not much," Ron agreed, his face almost splitting in two. He sobered suddenly. "She's been at me, too, a bit. I think McGonagall let her have a peek at my O.W.L.s early. I keep telling her what it was like last year..."

Harry swallowed hard.

For a few moments there was a silence between them.

"I wish you could stay at Hogwarts, too," Ron said. "Why can't you? It's got to be safe, don't you reckon?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know."

"Can you ask?"

Harry nodded glumly.

Ron looked at him and frowned. "You _are_ coming back when school starts, aren't you?" He leaned forward when Harry didn't answer immediately. "Harry? You _are_, right?"

"I don't know," Harry said, feeling just dreadful. "I don't know yet, Ron."

And it was then, with Ron staring at him in stunned disbelief, that the fireplace roared to life, spewing green flames.

"I... I have to go," Harry said helplessly.

"But we haven't had time to... to talk about _anything_! Harry...!"

"I have to go," Harry repeated, giving Ron's shoulder a quick squeeze. "I'm sorry. Tell everyone I... I miss them and I... I hope they don't hate me."

"Why would they hate you?" Ron called after him. "Harry, wait!"

But the green flames closed around him, and he was spinning away.

* * *

After being spat out onto the floor of Snape's office, Harry sat staring at the wall for a few moments before picking himself up and brushing soot off his clothes.

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting.

He just knew that meeting with Ron had left him feeling even more mixed up, and feeling even worse about all the lies that he would have to tell just to get through each and every day.

Starting with the biggest lie of all.

He looked glumly at the bronze goblet and the potion that would turn him back into Hadrian. Or, he supposed, he could just wait. Wouldn't he turn back an hour after drinking the potion from the silver goblet?

No one ever explained things to his satisfaction.

He glanced at the clock. Only five minutes remained of his time as himself. Unless Snape and Lupin had just been trying to scare him, the potion would wear off by itself.

Well, why hasten it? He had no way of knowing when he would get to be Harry Potter again. This might be his last chance for a long time to wear his own face.

He took off the Weasley jumper and folded it carefully, kicked off Dudley's trainers, and started to put on his new, still less than perfectly comfortable clothes.

His skin prickled.

He glanced into the shiny surface of a polished platter, and watched as his features stretched and changed before his eyes.

He left everything on the table, poured the unused potion out onto the floor, and flicked his new wand to vanish the mess.

"Yeeeow!" He waved his hand frantically to cool his burned fingertips. "Bloody hell!"

Well, it _was_ a different wand, and probably wasn't a very good fit for him. He would have to practice simple spells until he got used to it. He just hoped he wouldn't be as accident prone as Neville had been for years.

The scorch mark on the floor was barely visible, if one didn't look too closely. He rubbed it with the toe of his boot and decided it wasn't worth worrying about.

Remembering Snape's instructions, he sat down to wait. He wished he could escape to his own room, but he wasn't even sure he could find the way.

He was just about to reach for a copy of the Daily Prophet, which was lying on Snape's desk and proclaimed, **POTTER STILL MISSING, MINISTER FURIOUS**, when the door opened just enough for Hadrian Snape to slip inside and close it behind him.

"Hey Tonks," Harry said half-heartedly. Looking at what he looked like now was depressing. "Did we pull it off?"

She grinned, and in a flash her hair was a blinding pink, her face already rearranging itself into her usual features. "Sure did. No one suspects a thing." She looked him over carefully. "Looks like you're ready to go. Snape wants you to go straight up to the staff room, and bring his lesson book with you. That's what he sent you down here for."

Harry nodded. The thin leather book was lying on Snape's desk, half-buried under a stack of unopened mail. "Thanks."

"Cheer up, Harry," she said, frowning slightly as she tried to ruffle his hair and was caught in a tangle. "Think of it as an undercover operation. I have to do it all the time."

"Really?" He hadn't thought of it before, but it made sense that her talent would come in handy as an Auror.

"Of course. Aren't you thinking of going for Auror training?"

Harry nodded.

"Think of this as the start of your training, then. Don't blow your cover."

_Or else_, Harry added silently. "I won't."

"It'll be over before you know it. Get going. I have to floo out of here if I'm going to get to work on time."

"Bye," Harry said, reluctantly pulling open the door and looking out to make sure the hallway outside was empty. When he looked back, the office was empty - Tonks had already gone.

With a sigh, he trudged to the staff room, only straightening himself when he reached the door. He really needed to work on making a better impression on people. He didn't want anyone to think he was as bad as Snape, did he? Ron already thought that.

He knocked, and the door opened at once.

They were seated around a long table, which was strewn with papers. McGonagall was at the head, and Harry noted that most of his professors were present. So were Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and their two eldest sons.

Without a word, he walked up to Snape and handed the lesson book to him. Snape took it, acknowledging Harry with only a curt nod.

Lupin gave him a slight smile. No one else paid any attention to him.

He turned on his heel and walked out.

Hogwarts was where he had always wanted to be in the summer, but now that he was there he couldn't think of how to pass the time. He decided to go back to his room.

"There he is -"

"Shhhhhhh!"

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, but Harry forced himself to keep walking as though he hadn't heard the voices.

Great. Exactly what he needed.

He was caught under the arms from behind, and now Fred and George were walking on either side of him, their shoulders hard against his.

"Hold up there. Hadrian, isn't it?"

Harry couldn't help scowling. He wasn't afraid of the twins, exactly, but he knew they hated Snape and he knew they could get nasty. "So what?"

Fred - or possibly George, Harry wasn't very sure - smiled innocently at him. "Just thought we'd get to know each other. Hogwarts isn't such a big place -"

"- And it's ages before classes start..." continued George (or maybe Fred).

Harry tried to shake them off. They were forcing him in the opposite direction from the dungeon staircase, and he was sure he didn't want to find out what they really wanted.

Their hold on him just tightened.

They rounded the corner, and Harry realized with some apprehension that they were far enough now from the staff room that no one was likely to see or hear anything that went on.

"What do you want?" he demanded, making a final effort to free himself.

They let him go suddenly, letting him stumble before he regained his balance, and put on hurt faces.

"Doesn't sound like he wants to talk, does it, George?" said Fred, shaking his head with a false air of sadness.

"Doesn't seem very friendly, does he, Fred?" replied George, shaking his head and sighing.

Harry looked warily from one to the other. He was no longer very sure that he wasn't afraid of them.

"And to think - !" said Fred.

"- That we just wanted to welcome him - !" continued George.

"- To Hoggy Woggy Hogwarts!" they finished together. And they stared at him with avid disappointment.

Harry kept his mouth shut.

"Well," said Fred, sounding defeated, "I suppose there isn't anything we can do, George."

George sighed like his heart was breaking, and nodded. "Let's just give him his present and go."

Fred fished a lumpy little red paper sack out of his pocket. "The very best from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. That's our shop." He shoved it into Harry's hand and closed Harry's fingers over it as if expecting him to drop it.

And they both watched expectantly.

Harry cautiously ripped open the top and shook several sweets into the palm of his hand.

Puking Pastilles.

So that's what they were up to. He almost breathed a sigh of relief.

Still, he felt a bit trapped. How would Hadrian Snape react, having never met or even heard of Fred and George Weasley, or Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, before?

"Sorry," he said, pouring the sweets back into the sack, "I don't take sweets from strangers."

He held it out, but Fred refused to take it.

"Keep it," he said, barely concealing a sneer. "You might want to try it later."

"Bit of advice to you, Snape," said George, all hint of friendliness gone from his voice, "If I were you, I'd be careful about whom I choose to be friends with around here -"

"- And whom I choose for my enemies," finished Fred, taking George by the elbow. "Come on, George."

"You wouldn't want to fall in with the wrong sort," George said over his shoulder as they sauntered away.

Harry swallowed, reminded suddenly of another conversation that had ended just thus.

He whispered, his voice not reaching even his own ears.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself."

And he swallowed very hard again.


	10. Chapter 10

The dungeon corridors all looked the same. Harry was hopelessly lost.

With a frustrated huff, he sat down on the bottom step of what appeared to be an unfinished staircase carved into the stone wall. There were only six steps, and each was more rough-edged than the previous. There was no getting around the fact that he had never been in this part of the dungeons before.

"Brilliant."

An echo answered him.

_Brilliant_

_illiant_

_liant_

He rolled his eyes.

"Fine, I'll just sit here until someone finds me."

Silence answered him.

Harry frowned. "Wait a minute..."

"Ickle lost boy... Oh, ickle lost _boo-o-y_...!"

Harry shut his eyes and let out a pained breath. This was just what he did not need.

Peeves popped out of nowhere, dive-bombing with a piercing whistle.

Harry ducked, rolling to the side. He leaped to his feet. "What do you want, Peeves?"

Peeves cocked his head, squinting one eye. "Ickle boy knows my name."

Harry made his ugliest imitation of Snape's sneer. "My father's told me all about you, Peeves. He also told me that the Bloody Bar-"

"!"

With this ear-piercing screech, Peeves flipped mid-air and splattered through the nearest wall, leaving a trail of oozing slime."

"Huh," said Harry, confused but pleased. "How odd. Well, he did seem to come from _that_ direction, so I might - _AAAAAAaaaahhhh_!"

With his single step he was standing in the midst of a pale, silvery mist, and it was as cold as an ice bath.

What was worse was the fact that the mist was _watching_ him.

He stepped back at once, clutching his chest where his heart was hammering like mad.

For a long, silent moment, the Bloody Baron continued to look down his nose at Harry, his eyes pale and milky within a corpse-like face. Then he made a graceful turn and floated away slowly down a dark corridor.

With nothing else to do, Harry followed him, staying well back.

Two turns, three - he tried to keep track - then suddenly he saw Bathsheba the Beady-eyed.

The Bloody Baron did not wait, or even turn to see if Harry had found his way. By the time Harry reached the next corner, he was gone.

Harry stopped at the fork to catch his breath and get oriented. He knew which way to go now. If he turned right, he would be on his way to Snape's office. His room was ahead, down the wider of the corridors.

A few minutes later he was at his door, struggling with the heavy key. It turned, finally, and he went quickly inside.

He couldn't help noticing that more lights were lit than he had left burning that morning.

Cautiously, he checked the shadowy corners, but the room was empty. The only sign of a disturbance was a scrap of parchment on the desk, held down by his own ink pot.

_Hadrian,_

_Please join me for tea later this  
morning. The staff meeting should  
be over by half past ten._

_My office._

_R.J.L._

Harry crumpled the note and tossed it into the rubbish bin.

What did Lupin want?

He had no way of knowing what time it was. He reckoned he had been wandering around the dungeons for at least the better part of an hour, but he hadn't checked the time since that morning, so this didn't help.

His shirt was dirty and damp with sweat. He could practically feel the grease mixing with sweat in his hair. What he really needed was another shower.

He had to settle for changing his shirt and running a wet comb through his tangled hair.

"Shut up," he told the mirror, just in case it was the kind that made unwanted comments about your appearance.

This time he didn't get lost. He muttered Lupin's directions under his breath until he reached the part of the dungeons he was most familiar with.

"Straight down the corridor until I reach the beady-eyed hag. Turn right. Fork; turn right. Next is the ugly dwarf's head. Right again. There's Snape's office on the left... To hell with this - I need a map."

The best map, of course, was in Lupin's safekeeping, and Harry doubted he would see it again until it was safe to be Harry Potter again.

Whenever that might be.

His boots made a terrible amount of noise on the polished floor of the entrance hall. He was trying to get as quickly as possible to Lupin's office, without attracting any more attention.

Fortunately, there seemed to be no one about.

Soon enough he was in front of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office. A shiny new plaque on the door read, _**R. J. Lupin**_ in bold brass letters.

He knocked.

"Come in."

The door swung open before Harry could reach for the handle.

Lupin was behind a messy desk, surrounded by mounds of papers and books and a cage containing something large and furry that was the color of Tonks' hair.

"Er... you wanted to see me?"

"Yes," Lupin said, and the door shut behind Harry with a soft bang. "Sit down, please. Make yourself comfortable. I was beginning to think you wouldn't come..."

"I got lost," Harry said defensively. "Peeves nearly took my head off, and then the Bloody Baron let me walk right into him."

"Hmm," Lupin said, shuffling some papers around to make room for a tea tray. "Sounds like quite a morning."

Harry sat down on the only available chair; every other piece of furniture in the room was just as occupied as Lupin's desk was.

"How did things go with Ron?"

"Fine. We hardly had any time to talk, of course."

"Did he mention Hadrian?"

Harry nodded, remembering with a scowl. "Yeah. Tonks did a fine job."

Lupin looked up sharply. "What's that?"

"I mean, Ron doesn't suspect a thing. Tonks asked him where he was going right before he got to Hagrid's, and then we watched Tonks through the window, so I don't see how he could think Hadrian is me."

"Good," Lupin said, waving his wand over the tea pot, which began to steam. "Then everything went according to plan. Tea?"

Harry nodded, and Lupin poured him a cup.

"Sugar?"

Harry took three lumps.

"I think we can consider the possibility of making these short meetings a very regular event."

"Huh?"

"Maybe twice a week to start with..."

"Really?" Harry said in disbelief. "I can do that?"

"I don't see why not. With the Weasleys here, quite a few things will need to be changed to suit the situation. After all, the less they worry about you, the less the chance that Hadrian will come under suspicion."

Harry nodded; he didn't care what the reason was.

"Good, then I'll make the arrangements."

Harry nodded again, but it occurred it him suddenly that the arrangements must have already been made without his input, between Lupin and Snape, or else Lupin wouldn't have suggested it.

He drowned that thought in a long sip of hot, too-sweet tea.

"Is there anything you need? Does your room suit you?"

"It's... fine," Harry said, thinking of the gloomy little bedroom. "I could really use a watch though. I had a Muggle wristwatch before."

"I'll see what I can find."

"Thanks." His eyes wandered around the cluttered office. "Do you need help in here?"

"I'm afraid it wouldn't look right to have you spending too much time in my company, Harry."

"Oh. Right."

"I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, of course, so over time we will be able to see one another much more freely."

"Right," Harry repeated.

"In fact, I was hoping to organize a little advanced study group. What do you think?"

Harry stared at him. Was Lupin seriously suggesting he participate in a study group that would almost certainly include both Ron and Ginny, seeing how there were only four students at Hogwarts besides Harry himself?

"No?" Lupin prompted, looking slightly disappointed. "It would be a good way of introducing yourself to the Weasleys in a neutral, adult-supervised setting."

"Oh, we've been introduced," Harry muttered darkly, thinking of his run-in with the twins. Aloud, he said, "I'll think about it."

"Well," Lupin said with a short sigh, "I'll let you know prior to making a general announcement. That is, if I even find the time to get something together. Umbridge did leave a mess, didn't she? I can't find anything resembling a lesson planner or even a schedule of required readings..."

"Lesson planner?" Harry scoffed. "We didn't do a single thing all last year!"

"You did read the book, did you not?" Lupin countered, raising an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that plenty of class time was devoted to... ahem... self-paced study of Defense theory."

Harry snickered.

Lupin seemed to be fighting a smile as well. "I thought I would follow up some of last year's lessons with practical instruction in the same subjects. That way your work will not be wasted."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Yes... if I can just figure out what was taught, and in what sequence. Now," Lupin said, changing the subject, "it's almost time for you to go, but I still have a number of things to tell you."

Lupin's eyes darted to a piece of paper tucked under a paperweight. Harry had the sneaking suspicion that Lupin had a list.

"I have the password to your room." Lupin handed him a folded square of parchment. "Burn it once you've committed it to memory; it wouldn't do to leave it lying about, even in your own room. Turn in the key to Professor McGonagall when you have the chance."

Harry accepted the paper and looked at it. There was a single word.

_Chameleon_

Harry made a face.

"You can change it if you wish," Lupin said. "The password is set to this poster, which you will put up on or near the door." He placed a roll of glossy paper on the desk in front of Harry. "Careful, the sticking charm is very strong."

Harry unrolled it just enough to see that it was a Quidditch poster bearing the heading, _**The Prides**_, and featuring a team wearing purple robes with a gold star emblem.

"That's your team, by the way," Lupin said. "The Pride of Portree."

"I don't know anything about them," Harry said, frowning.

"Not much to know - they haven't had a win since the 1960's. The lead guitarist of the Weird Sisters is the son of a former Captain. Do you still have those Quidditch magazines I gave you?"

Harry nodded. He'd kept them; they were an interesting read.

"Should be a lot on The Prides in them. That was the height of their popularity. For anything more recent you can search the Daily Prophet archives in the library."

Harry was about to say that he hadn't even known the library carried an archive of the newspaper, when a buzzing sound interrupted.

"Excuse me."

Lupin stood, stepped over a stack of books blocking his way, and made his way to the fireplace. A moment later a head appeared in the midst of green flames.

"Lupin."

"What can I do for you, Severus?"

"Is the boy with you?"

"Yes, he is."

"Keep him there."

With that command, Snape's head vanished and the flames died with a hiss.

Lupin sat back on his heels and looked over his shoulder uncertainly. "It seems our visit will be slightly longer than I expected."

"Has something happened?"

"I don't know. I think -" Lupin paused, frowning. "It might be wise to lock the door, as a precaution."

Harry watched as Lupin tapped the lock, causing it to glow momentarily. When he turned around, it seemed clear to Harry that Lupin was trying hard to appear unconcerned.

"More tea, Harry? I think I have some chocolate biscuits here, though I hate to spoil your lunch."

Harry accepted a refill and took three biscuits out of the paper sack Lupin produced from under the mess on his desk. "Thanks."

Filling his own cup and settling back in his chair, Lupin seemed more at ease. "Where were we?"

"The Prides," Harry supplied reluctantly. He really wanted to know what was going on out there.

"Right. Learn what you can about them, but no need to seem obsessed. Not every teenager is wrapped up in Quidditch... though most at least know something about their home team."

"I don't suppose I ever had the chance to play, myself," Harry said sourly. All the talk about Quidditch was depressing, really, considering he knew he wouldn't be playing at Hogwarts.

"No, you haven't ever played. Try to remember that if you're ever pulled into an impromptu game."

Harry thought it was decisively unlikely that the Weasleys would invite him to play with them, but didn't say so.

Lupin frowned slightly. "I did think we would have plenty of time to develop your new identity, but..."

"But the Weasleys are here," Harry finished for him. "So? What do I have to do?"

Lupin drew a breath and let it out slowly. "You'll need some new hobbies... interests... something to make you less of a blank slate. As Harry you had Quidditch, and you excelled at Defense Against the Dark Arts. As Hadrian... well, who are you?"

"The son of the most hated teacher in school," Harry said darkly. "I mean, that's all people will really see or care about."

"Some people, yes, perhaps."

"Like all my friends."

"Then you will make new friends."

Harry stared at him. "In _Slytherin_?"

"Yes, Slytherin... if that is where you will be sorted."

"Where else would I be sorted?" Harry asked, exasperated that Lupin refused to accept the obvious. "It's not like Snape would let me go to Gryffindor."

"Where the Sorting Hat chooses to place you, is where you will go."

That made Harry feel decidedly worse. What if the Hat offered him a choice again? Would he dare go against Snape?

"Now," Lupin said, putting down his teacup, "I want to -" But he was interrupted as a buzzing sound again filled their ears.

Snape's head popped into the green flames that flared before Lupin even stood up.

"False alarm. Send the boy to my office."

And before Lupin could answer, the flames hissed and snuffed out, leaving the grate as empty as before.

"Hmm. It looks like you'll be going," Lupin said in a falsely light voice. "Just one last thing I need to give you before you leave."

He took a small, flat box from a drawer.

"A few family photographs for your room."

Harry accepted the box and gathered up the Quidditch poster as well. "Thank you for the tea."

"It was my pleasure. I hope we can meet again very soon."

Lupin let him out, and Harry headed back to the dungeons.

Just as before, there was no one about.

He stopped in front of Snape's office for some much-needed deep breaths, then knocked.

The door swung open, just like the door to Lupin's office, but Snape was standing in the doorway, looking down at him.

"Come in and sit down."

Harry came in silently and found a seat. He kept his head down.

It had just occurred to him that Snape might have discovered the scorch mark on the floor.

Snape took his time shutting the door; Harry caught a glow of light out of the corner of his eye, so Snape must have locked and warded it.

Snape took his time settling behind his desk, as well, like he knew it was torture for Harry to have to wait for whatever was coming. He pushed aside the Daily Prophet and a stack of envelopes.

"Have you had occasion to use your new wand?"

Harry jumped, startled, but managed to keep his eyes from flying up to meet Snape's.

"Er... yes." Better just get it over with. Lying wouldn't work; Snape already knew.

"I thought so. The temptation to use magic during the summer is too great for the likes of you and the Weasley horde. Well? What was the result?"

"It - it was a little out of control."

Snape was silent for a long moment, which made Harry squirm.

"Better that than an unresponsive wand. Wand control is strictly a matter of practice and habit."

Harry couldn't help it this time; he looked up. It didn't sound after all like Snape was about to start berating him over the ruined floor or, worse, the wasted potion.

"You will begin tutoring sessions immediately to bring you up to acceptable levels in all relevant subject areas."

Harry stared at him. "Wha- what? Sir?"

Snape returned the stare with more than a hint of disapproval. "I realize the idea of excelling in your school work is foreign to you, but I'm afraid nothing short of excellence will be required now that you are no longer able to fly by the seat of your fame."

Harry bristled. He wasn't aware of a single time that his grades had been anything but deserved, whether good or bad. If being famous affected the way his professors treated his essays and homework assignments, he hadn't known about it.

"Among your shortcomings," Snape continued gratingly, "is a complete lack of aptitude in Potions. This must be corrected before the school year begins."

"But..." Harry said slowly, "... but I'm not taking Potions this year."

Snape's glare bloomed in full. "I assure you, you are. I assure you, also, that I do not intend to be humiliated by your incompetence. My N.E.W.T. level courses bar the unskilled and unintelligent for good reason."

Harry understood suddenly, and a sickened feeling spread in the pit of his stomach.

Harry Potter might be useless in Potions, but Hadrian was Snape's son, and Snape expected his son to follow in his footsteps.

"Well?"

"Yes, sir," Harry mumbled, looking down. "I understand."

"Good," Snape said, his tone inviting defiance. "Then we will begin at once. I have drawn up a schedule -"

He waited until Harry took the single sheet of parchment from him.

"As you can see, we will meet each morning and each evening. In the morning we shall review basic wand skill, spellwork, transfiguration, and practical charms up to fifth year level. In the evening we will attempt to correct your woeful shortcomings in the areas of Potions and Herbology." He paused, letting Harry look over the schedule and probably enjoying the expression Harry could feel blossoming on his face. "You will notice that three mid-afternoon sessions have been scheduled as well. We will address History of Magic, as well as other less pressing subjects, then. I have left plenty of time for homework assignments to be completed, as well as planned several sessions in the school library throughout the week. Should Lupin follow through for once and start a Defense Against the Dark Arts study circle, you will have no difficulty fitting it in."

Harry felt his mouth fall open in a sort of silent scream.

Snape had to be joking. Either that, or he was completely insane.

The schedule left just enough time for Harry to wolf down three meals a day and get half a night's sleep. Every other moment of every single day was solidly accounted for.

"Any questions?" Snape asked, his voice dripping with distinct mockery.

Harry gritted his teeth. He vowed to show Snape how unconcerned he was.

"No, sir, no questions."

"Excellent. Then you won't mind telling me what we will be doing this morning."

The only thing that sprung to Harry's mind was _Lunch_, because after the morning he'd just had it had to be close to the noon hour, but that was clearly not the answer Snape expected. He looked down at the schedule.

"Uh... Charms?"

"Wand control," Snape corrected harshly. "Just how do you expect to succeed in any subject without basic control of your wand?"

"I don't know, sir," Harry said, forcing his voice to be steady.

"Take out your wand."

Harry took out the thirteen-inch hawthorn wand and tried to find a good grasp on the roughly carved handle.

Snape eyed him with disgust. "We will begin with the proper wand grip."

To Harry's horror, Snape came out from behind his desk and took up a position behind Harry's chair. His pale, long-fingered hand curled over Harry's on the wand.

"Thumb lower," Snape commanded. "Pinkie tucked in - you are holding a wand, not a teacup, for Merlin's sake." He prodded Harry's fingers until they were almost extended along the length of the wand. "Point with your index finger to direct energies and confer decisive intent. Now, put the wand away."

Harry pocketed the wand.

"Take it out."

Harry took it out, trying to grip the handle the way Snape had shown him.

Not good enough; Snape's cold hand was back on his, prodding his fingers into the right position.

"Put it away... Take it out."

Harry lost track of the number of times Snape made him repeat the exercise. After the third or fourth time Snape no longer corrected him.

Finally satisfied, Snape did not tell him to put the wand away.

"We will move on to basic wand movements. The swish..."

Swish.

Flick.

Thrust.

Harry's empty stomach was grumbling by the time they had progressed to the basic swish-and-thrust common in defensive charms.

"We will adjourn for lunch," Snape said at last. "I expect you to use the afternoon to practice these wand movements, as well as to look up the properties of the eighteen plants most commonly used in first-year level potions."

"First year?" Harry asked with an annoyed sigh; it looked like they would be starting with the bare basics in Potions, as well.

"First year," Snape said firmly.

"Yes, sir," Harry said resignedly. "Er... where should I look them up? I don't have my textbooks."

His Potions and Herbology texts had been among those deemed too damaged for him to keep, lest they be recognized.

Snape frowned and stood up. "I shall lend you One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and Magical Drafts and Potions. These should be enough for you to begin."

The books Snape handed him were clearly from his personal library, and were well-worn.

"Thank you."

"You can thank me by coming to our evening session prepared," Snape retorted. He glanced at the clock. "You have time to wash up and make yourself presentable. Do not dawdle. I expect you to be on time for all meals. Dismissed!"

Harry scrambled to gather up his things and get out from under Snape's unforgiving stare.


	11. Chapter 11

He got to the Great Hall earlier than he intended, and stopped short when he saw that the only person already seated at the long table was Ginny.

She was reading a thick book, but looked up and smiled a little.

It was too late to turn around and leave, so he forced himself to sit down at the other end of the table.

"Your name's Hadrian, right?"

He nodded, not looking at her.

"You can look at me, you know," she said, a little sharply. "A lot of people either stare or pretend they don't see me at all, and I hate both."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, drawing his eyes over to her face reluctantly.

"Well?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and her voice ringing with challenge. "Am I the most hideous thing you've ever seen?"

"Of course not," Harry said quickly. "It's not your fault you... got hurt."

It was his fault.

He had to fight to keep from looking away again.

She raised her chin defiantly. "I got hurt doing the right thing, and fighting against evil. I'm not sorry. I'm proud I was there."

"Oh." It came out rather strangled.

"Harry is the bravest boy I know, and anything you've read in the papers is _lies_."

"I haven't read anything," Harry said, desperate to get out of the terrible conversation. "I've had my own problems to settle."

She looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes. "Yes, I imagine you did. Is it true what I've been hearing about your father?"

"Huh?"

"Him and Professor Lupin."

"Oh," Harry said uncomfortably. "Uh..."

"Forget it," Ginny said. "I don't care, except I know how upset Harry will be. He looks up to Lupin."

"So?" Harry said, feeling a twinge of anger. "He's going to be disappointed just because -"

"That is _not_ what I meant!" Ginny tossed her head and picked up her book again. "I said forget it."

He felt stupid for getting angry with her. She was right, of course. He _would_ have been upset.

He _was_ upset.

"Ginny... Hadrian."

Ginny looked up from her book just long enough to give Lupin the same weak smile Harry had received, then went back to reading.

"Was your meeting with your father satisfactory?"

Harry nodded, suddenly thinking just how odd it was to be asked that question. He had the feeling that it would take some getting used to, playing the role of a boy who had a family.

"Good," Lupin said, sitting down next to him.

Harry scowled, thinking about the mind-numbing study schedule Snape had drawn up for him.

There was no chance for more conversation, because at that moment the horde of Weasleys came in, taking up their places around the table. The twins and Ron had their heads close together and seemed to be having a heated argument in whispered tones.

He looked up as Snape sat down on his other side, then looked away quickly.

Finally, he decided to just ignore everyone and stare down at the empty plate that had appeared in front of him.

When food finally appeared, he had no trouble concentrating on eating. He felt like he hadn't eaten in days.

The few times he looked up, he thought he caught hostile looks from Fred, George, and Ron aimed in his direction.

It hurt, but he knew it wasn't their fault, and he certainly hadn't done anything to make a good impression on any of them. If he were in their place, he could imagine himself throwing some unfriendly looks Hadrian's way, too.

Maybe he'd best just get used to it.

That was a depressing thought, and he carried it heavily with him back to his bedroom.

"Chameleon."

The door swung open.

He hadn't had time to look through the things Lupin had given him. He opened the box and took out four framed photographs.

The woman, Beatrice Carmichael, was dark-haired and had a pale, thin face. She was wearing plain black robes. She was very ordinary.

He didn't know anything about her except that she had worked in a greenhouse and that she had died in a fire.

Now that he gave it some thought, he found that he knew about as much about Hadrian's parents as he knew about his own. That is, not very much.

Another photograph showed her parents, a heavy-set bald man and a pinched-looking woman who looked nothing like the Dursleys and yet somehow reminded Harry of them.

There was a photograph of a much younger Snape and a much younger Beatrice sitting on a stone bench beneath a flowering tree. Neither one looked particularly happy to be there.

The last photograph showed Beatrice standing in front of a grand manor, holding a bouquet and the hand of a very small boy with slightly overgrown black hair.

Harry squinted and brought his face close, but the grainy photograph was devoid of detail. The little boy could have been anyone's child. Even Snape's.

It was still such an odd thought.

He hung one of Beatrice's photographs on the wall and placed the rest on his bedside table, where he would have had the picture of his mum and dad. He wished he could still have it, but that was a useless wish and he pushed it out of his mind quickly.

Snape's books were sitting where he had left them, on top of his trunk. He picked them up and sat down on the bed with a sigh. He would just have to give it a go. He wasn't going to give Snape the satisfaction of having something else to badger him about. Snape was probably counting on Harry being unprepared.

His mind wandered.

He supposed it was his own fault that he didn't already know the material. Had he studied at all his first year? Why didn't he know that aconite couldn't be mixed with asphodel unless you used an acidic base, or that daisy roots were twice as potent if gathered under a full moon?

It was rather hopeless. He couldn't very well learn the names and uses of all the plants used in first year Potions class, and was he supposed to go through each potion in the book to find out which were the eighteen most commonly used plants?

He didn't suppose he could ask Snape for a list.

He wished he could ask Hermione. She wouldn't even need the book.

Before he even knew it, the school bell was ringing.

He slammed the book shut in frustration. An entire afternoon of studying, and he'd got nothing done! Now he'd have to go down to dinner and straight to a session with Snape from there, and then he would look lazy and stupid.

He paused with his hand on the doorknob, frowning.

Why, exactly, did he suddenly care?

* * *

"Identify each plant, name one potion that uses it, and sort according to toxicity in raw form."

Harry stared blankly at the tray in front of him.

Eighteen plants were lined up in rows.

He recognized only six of them, could think of a potion using only four of them, and knew for sure that only one, belladonna, was toxic.

"Begin," Snape said, setting a piece of parchment on the table next to an ink pot and quill.

Harry picked up the quill with a horrible aching feeling in his gut.

_Daisy roots, used in Shrinking Solution._

_Aconite, used in Wolfsbane Potion._

_Belladonna, used in Draught of Living Death._

_Fluxweed, used in Polyjuice Potion._

_Valerian_

_Ginger_

He looked at his short list and at the plants remaining unidentified and felt heat start creeping up his neck.

He dared to glance at Snape, but Snape was at his desk, taking notes out of a heavy tome, and didn't look up.

_Belladonna_, Harry wrote under the heading of _Toxicity_.

He put the quill down and waited for the inevitable.

The wait wasn't very long, but it certainly felt that way.

"Finished?"

Harry swallowed and shook his head. "No, sir, but I don't know the rest of them."

Snape's mouth thinned. Setting down his book, he retrieved the parchment with a flick of his wand.

After what felt like eternity, he raised his eyes to meet Harry's.

"Explain."

Harry shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. "I did study. I didn't know what the most common plants were, so I... I studied everything in the book, and -"

"Stop."

Harry fell silent.

With another flick of his wand, Snape had a copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi in his hand. Flipping it open, he held it out to Harry.

He had no choice but to walk to Snape's desk and take the book.

"Read it."

Harry looked down and saw that the book was open to the introductory chapter.

"_The eighteen plant derivatives most commonly used in potions are: daisy, common; ginger, root of; hellebore, black; ragwort..._" he trailed off, his face burning.

There was absolute silence. He didn't dare look up, but he could feel Snape's eyes on him, and it was a terrible feeling. A drop of sweat trailed down his back.

When Snape spoke, it was in a tightly controlled tone that was somehow worse than being yelled at or berated.

"Since you have rendered this evening's session pointless, I will leave it up to you to come up with a suitable way to make up for lost time. Dismissed."

Harry raised his head to meet Snape's eyes. "Sir?"

"_Dismissed_," Snape repeated, and as if to make a point, he picked up his book and notes and strode out of the room, snuffing the torches as he went.

Left in near darkness, Harry sank shakily onto a bench.

Snape was going to leave it up to him to make up the work?

How in bloody hell was he supposed to do that?

* * *

Harry sat gloomily on his bed, three books open on the bedspread in front of him. He had a stack of parchment, a quill, and an ink pot. He had everything he needed; he just needed to get started.

In a way, punishing himself was a lot harder than having his punishment set by Snape.

No matter what he did, he would probably be accused of doing the easiest thing.

But what could he do except research the plants Snape had assigned? Maybe he'd finally learn them, at least. Wasn't that what Snape wanted?

He still didn't have an answer to the needling question of when, and why, he had started to care what Snape thought. He was starting to grow a bit resentful of his own feelings. It was disconcerting to know one thing but feel another, and he knew he still disliked Snape, and being under Snape's thumb, as much as ever. It was a betrayal of sorts to find that despite his dislike, he cared whether the man was satisfied or displeased with him.

He forced himself to concentrate, and slogged through ten of the potions by eleven o'clock, when he knew he'd best turn in or risk oversleeping the next morning.

It was quite irritating to realize that this fear, too, seemed to be a fear of doing something Snape had forbidden.

He was really not right in the head, wasn't he?

Going to bed with that thought only ensured that his sleep was disturbed and unrestful, and by the time he got to breakfast he had to fight down an urge to snap at the first person to speak to him.

"Did you sleep well?" Lupin asked cautiously, and yet with a warning in his tone.

"Yes, perfectly well," Harry ground out. "Did you?"

He was immediately sorry, both because Lupin's eyes flashed with anger and because several heads of red hair swiveled in their direction, conversation ceasing.

Lupin was silent long enough for the change of topic to come down hard. "I believe you should speak with your father this morning."

Harry cringed inwardly, hating the cold tone that was directed at him. "Is he in his office?"

"No, our quarters."

'Our' stabbed into Harry with more than a little sting. As intended, no doubt.

"Do I need to see him right now?"

Lupin was silent for a few long moments, and Harry didn't need to look up to know he was being studied... by more than just one pair of eyes.

"Yes," Lupin said finally, his tone still icy. "I believe so."

He hated this. And he hated Lupin for not letting it pass.

"Yes, sir."

He took a last sip of milk, because his throat was beginning to dry out the way it always did when he was nervous or upset, then pushed back his chair and stood.

There were more than a few smug expressions among his former friends. Of course they would take pleasure in seeing someone they already disliked put in his place by someone they did like. For them, it was probably nearly as good as seeing Snape himself knocked down a peg or two.

And the worst was, Harry knew he'd have had the same gleeful expression on his face if he were still one of them.

But he wasn't one of them.

He turned and walked out of the Great Hall, not looking back and not letting his shoulders droop. He stomped down to dungeon stairs, taking out his frustration in the only way he could.

Maybe it worked. He arrived at Snape's door feeling like a dishrag after it had been wrung out.

He had never been inside Snape's quarters, and as he doubted Snape had really requested to see him, he had the feeling his visit was very unwelcome.

He knocked.

It wasn't long.

"Yes?"

Harry hated the way Snape could make him feel like worm guts just by looking down his long nose at him.

"Professor Lupin told me to see you."

He didn't know what he had expected. The minute Snape kept him waiting for a reply felt very long.

"Come in." Snape held the door open, stepping aside.

Harry swallowed as he stepped through the doorway and into a dimly lit, cavernous room.

On closer look, it wasn't that bad. It was dark because only one torch was lit; it was over a long table where several small cauldrons simmered over low fires. It was a large room, and very sparringly furnished, but what little furniture was there seemed comfortable enough.

The door shut with a thud and a lock clicked into place, making him jump slightly. He turned to face Snape, a feeling of impending doom returning as soon as his eyes alighted on Snape's thin-lipped expression.

"Pray tell what you have done this time."

Harry's first instinct was to look down at the floor, which of course was a ridiculous thing to do. He didn't need to avoid Snape's eyes unless he intended to lie, and what exactly would be his reason for lying now? Even if gluing his eyes to the stone floor didn't give away what he was doing, Snape only had to go as far as Lupin to get the real story. Besides which, there was no story, and therefore nothing to lie about. And that made keeping his eyes downcast _ridiculous_.

"I was rude to Professor Lupin," he said, and was unpleasantly surprised by the sullen tone of his own voice.

What was wrong with him lately, anyway?

"I see."

When minutes passed and Snape didn't say anything more, Harry began to think that standing in the middle of Snape's private quarters with his head hanging down like a guilty little miscreant was punishment in itself. It felt like it was.

"Come to the table."

He looked up, but Snape had turned away.

He glanced doubtfully at the table with the cauldrons, not sure what Snape wanted from him, until he saw that Snape was walking to the other end of the room entirely.

He followed silently.

"Sit down."

There was a small round table against the wall, and Snape had pulled out one of the chairs.

Harry sat.

There was cold leftover tea still on the table, looking like it had been there since the previous evening, and Snape cleared it away with a wave of his wand. A breakfast tray appeared instead, with all the food Harry hadn't had a chance to eat in the Great Hall before his mouth and bad mood had got the better of him.

"Eat."

He was decidedly not hungry. Having suffered through enough meals alone in Snape's company at Grimmauld Place, he had found that the surest way to calm his hunger pangs was to have Snape's eyes on him while he tried to choke down his food.

His hands filled his plate robotically, apparently not needing his brain to give them instructions.

Snape had seemed inclined to remain standing, but now he sat down opposite from Harry and filled a glass with pumpkin juice from the pitcher.

He was still waiting for some kind of punishment. Yelling, at least. Anything that made Lupin angry had to make Snape twice as.

He swallowed a piece of toast and had to gulp his juice quickly when it stuck in his dry throat.

Snape set down his glass with considerable force and glared at him. "Kindly mind your manners, if you have any."

Harry didn't feel up to speaking; he nodded. His eyes were watering.

Snape took up the glass again and looked calmer. "You will have to get used to public disagreements with Lupin. It is not your place to appear to like him."

Harry froze with a spoon of porridge half-way to his mouth.

"Keep your distance, and there will be no need for unpleasant scenes," Snape continued. "Realize that as Hadrian, you have known him for mere days, and having been uprooted and deposited into the care of your estranged father -" Snape lips curled over the word like it was something unpleasant - "you are not likely to be eagerly accepting of every aspect of your new life. This should not be a difficult feat to accomplish, since, I presume, you have little to be ecstatic about at the moment."

The spoon clattered back into the dish, hot porridge splattering Harry's hand.

Snape, who had been speaking with an almost trance-like calmness, came back into himself with a jerk. "Clean up that mess at once. What do you mean by throwing your utensils?"

The inside of Harry's head was curiously empty. A sort of buzzing sound filled his ears.

There seemed not to be any air in Snape's room.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake..." Snape stood up, the legs of his chair scraping the floor loudly.

A few minutes later Harry was bitterly washing down a calming potion with pumpkin juice, refusing to look at Snape.

"Stop sulking," Snape said. He had remained standing, looking down at Harry with an ugly scowl. "It is unbecoming."

Harry snorted into his glass, and still refused to look at him.

Snape sat down stiffly on the edge of his chair. "There is nothing to be upset over. You knew aspects of your life would necessarily be altered. It is an unfortunate truth that some changes need to be made all at once, or are made without advance notice. This is the nature of -"

"What, spying?" Harry spat out. "Maybe that's what it is to _you_, but I... I -" He stopped, breathing hard and lost for words.

"Are not used to it," Snape finished smoothly. "But you will become accustomed to it."

"I don't want to become accustomed to it!"

"But you must."

Harry sputtered, nothing to say to that.

Snape left him hanging, neither adding fuel to his anger nor trying to placate him - not that Harry thought the latter was a possibility.

"So," he asked finally, glaring at Snape. "Was Lupin play acting or is he angry with me?"

"I wasn't there," Snape said, raising an eyebrow. "In your own words, you were rude. Undoubtedly you were no more rude than usual. He sent you to me to be dealt with, as is proper in his position."

Harry pushed away from the table. "I'm done. I'm leaving."

Snape made no move to stand or to stop him. "Your morning session begins in twenty minutes. I suggest you fetch your books now." He paused, his eyes raking over Harry with distaste. "And wash your face."

Even an angry exit was denied to him!

He left Snape's quarters feeling brittle, like he'd been dried out thin as paper and might break apart at any moment.

In his room, he threw himself on the bed and balled the covers in his fists until he hurt from the shoulders to the tips of his fingers as much as he hurt inside.


	12. Chapter 12

Snape wordlessly accepted the long roll of parchment Harry offered him.

Harry knew the writing wasn't something to be particularly proud of, but punishment essays never were, and at least he had really tried for once.

"Hrm." Snape looked up with an arched eyebrow. "No Granger to look over your work? It shows."

Harry gritted his teeth, not taking the bait.

"Tell me," Snape continued, and there was a hint of a nasty smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "what do you believe you have accomplished with this?"

"I -" Harry paused, having begun too quickly in his growing anger. "I wanted to learn the properties of the eighteen plants you assigned, sir."

"Oh?" If anything, Snape's eyebrow arched higher in disbelief.

"Because," Harry said, his voice strangled as he battled with his temper, "you wouldn't have assigned them if they weren't important."

"And have you learned them?"

"I have," Harry said, trying to sound sure of it, because after the hours he had spent on the essay he _must_ know them.

Snape kept him pinned under that unforgiving, unbelieving gaze for a long minute. "We shall see if that is true or if, more likely, you have merely learned how to copy relevant passages out of a book without Granger hovering at your elbow." He turned and walked to the front of the room, stopping next to a long table. He waited for Harry to follow.

"Here is your assignment."

Harry looked down with dread, but found only a tray with eighteen potions ingredients lined up in neat rows. The same ones he had failed to identify before.

"Identify each plant, name one potion that uses it, and sort according to toxicity in raw form."

Harry looked up questioningly, because surely this could not be Snape's actual assignment... because surely Snape wouldn't give him a second chance at the same task. But Snape had already turned away, settling behind his desk after throwing Harry's essay on top of the dying embers in the fireplace, where it smoldered before catching aflame.

Harry swallowed hard and forced himself to look down at the tray, pick up a quill, and begin.

* * *

"Did you expect him to frame it?"

"Of course not," Harry said, wishing he had never said anything to Lupin. Lots of good it ever did; Lupin just took Snape's side every time. "But he didn't have to _burn_ it."

"No. No, he didn't. But that's his way of doing things."

"Forget it," Harry muttered, standing up. "I'm going to bed."

"Harry..."

Harry shook his head and kept walking. "Good-night, Professor."

"Harry, stop. Sit down."

He stopped, but he didn't turn around. "What for?"

"So that we can -" Lupin paused. "So that _I_ can understand. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset," Harry said peevishly. "Or at least I wasn't."

"Then sit down and tell me what has upset you, because you are upset now."

Reluctantly, seeing nothing good possibly coming from staying when he could feel anger beginning to boil inside him, Harry returned to his chair.

Lupin looked at him warily. "This keeps happening, doesn't it? Somehow we say the very wrong things..."

"Well, you - !" Harry cut himself off and looked down at the floor, scowling. "Forget it."

"No, I'm listening. I'm trying to understand. So that we can try to fix this."

Harry snorted. "Right."

"You're always angry," Lupin said hesitantly. "Everything upsets you. Sometimes I think I know why, and sometimes it's my fault or..."

Harry scowled harder. Lupin couldn't even finish that thought. Couldn't admit that sometimes it was Snape's fault.

"Let's start with what happened just now," Lupin continued. "I asked how your tutoring sessions were going and -"

"And I told you!"

"Yes, you told me, and I'm very sorry that you're upset about the essay, but -"

"BUT I'M NOT UPSET ABOUT IT!" Harry exploded.

Lupin frowned. "But why tell me about it, then?"

"Because you asked me! You asked me and I told you! And you -" Harry sputtered, "- you just hear what you want to hear, and defend Snape, like you always do, when I wasn't even saying anything about Snape!"

He stopped, out of breath, and clenched his teeth, hating that he never had the right words to say exactly what he meant, and hating even more that he'd let his temper loose again.

Lupin didn't say anything, just kept looking at him with a frown.

Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"I see," Lupin said finally.

Harry very much doubted that.

"Tell me, what did you expect me to say when you told me Professor Snape burned your essay?"

"I don't know," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"But clearly what I did say was not what you wanted to hear."

"You didn't have to defend him."

"I -" Lupin stopped abruptly, frowning again. "And what would you have done had I said nothing at all?"

Harry glared at him. "I would have told you I got my assignment right, except for getting two plants out of order because Snape gave me narcissus leaves instead of bulbs, and it's the bulbs that are toxic." He stopped and glared harder. "Go on, then. Go ahead and defend him for that, too, while you're at it."

Lupin stayed silent.

"And then," Harry continued, unable to keep the challenge out of his voice, "I spent an hour slicing different ingredients, which I'm pretty decent at, considering how much practice I've had in years of detentions."

"I see."

"And then he told me to go see you, and I did." Harry couldn't resist glaring again. "Just in case you thought I'd come here just to complain about Snape."

"_Professor_ -" Lupin started, and then seemed to think better of it and shook his head. "I didn't think that, Harry. I have something for you... something you asked for before."

"You still thought I was complaining about Snape," Harry said stubbornly. "Just like always."

"Well, yes, because you always -" Lupin stopped again and drew a deep breath. "Or maybe I assume you do. Harry, it does seem to me as if you complain about every single thing he does."

"No, I don't! I really don't - you just think I am, every time I say anything - and if I didn't say anything, then... then I would never tell you _anything_ - !"

Lupin stared at him with an expression of utmost lack of comprehension. "So what you're saying, Harry, is that when you're complaining you're... er... not complaining?"

The only thing that managed to come out of Harry's mouth was a sort of frustrated huff.

"I see..." Lupin said, drawing the words out.

"No, you don't," Harry said irritably.

"No," Lupin said, sighing. "You're right, I don't."

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"It's only that I can't commiserate with you, Harry, like you must have learned to expect from your friends - Ron and Hermione and all the rest. I have to think about the consequences of fueling your anger and your dislike. It's not that I don't sympathize when unfair things happen to you. It must seem, from your point of view, that I make excuses when those things happen -"

Harry snorted.

Lupin didn't continue.

"Sorry," Harry said grudgingly. "It's just that... you do."

Lupin let another minute drag by in silence, his brow furrowed. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his seat. There was such a clear sense of an imminent change of tactics that Harry instinctively braced himself.

"I need you to learn to get along with him," Lupin said, his voice brittle and hard-edged. "I know he's unfair to you. I know you feel he picks on your weaknesses and doesn't give you credit for your strengths. I know his expectations are too high. I know there's five years of bad history between you, and nearly a decade more bad history between him and James that he can't let go. I know your current situation must grate on your every nerve." He sat up abruptly, his hand grasping Harry's until it almost hurt. "Right now he's the only thing standing between you and things I'm too terrified to even voice."

Harry tried to pull his hand free, but Lupin wouldn't let him.

"Maybe I haven't told you enough to make you understand, but I'm too afraid. Too afraid it will make things worse instead of better. There are lives at stake... and not just yours and mine."

"I know that," Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper. He gave up his struggle for freedom from Lupin's grasp. "I _know_."

Lupin's other hand came up to the side of Harry's head, stroking his hair roughly. "I know you do. I'm sorry, because I know everything reminds you of Sirius and you think it was your fault..." His voice hitched. "What happened wasn't your fault. But we can't afford any more mistakes. We need - _I_ need - for you to do what you promised me you would do, because I don't have the strength to always be there to make you... I don't know if I'll always be able..." Lupin let him go abruptly, dropping his head into his hands. "I'm sorry."

Harry rubbed his sore hand, but could do nothing about the dull ache in his chest. He had nearly forgotten, but looking at Lupin now he was reminded sharply of just how unwell Lupin looked.

Lupin sat up, raking his greying hair off his face with his fingers. He smiled wanly. "There are hard times ahead, Harry."

Harry nodded numbly.

"You must have noticed that our circumstances change from day to day. What appears certain today may be impossible the next. What seems impossible today may be the only available course of action tomorrow." He stopped and waited for Harry to nod again. "I've made some promises to you that... I haven't kept. I've made others that now I realize I shouldn't have. It wasn't the way I meant things to be, Harry."

"I understand," Harry said, trying to.

"Do you?"

Harry swallowed.

"I promised you that you would have to play the part of Hadrian Snape for only a short time."

"But... you don't know, do you?" Harry said, his throat constricting. "You don't know how long it might be."

"No." Lupin let out a shaky breath. "And we don't have another plan. Not any plan that would let you continue your education uninterrupted or still see your friends. This is the best we could come up with. If we must, we will go into hiding, but Harry, that _must_ be avoided if it can be."

Harry thought about Sirius, trapped in Grimmauld Place for months, and about his own short stay there. He shivered involuntarily.

"The Order needs every one of its members, now more than ever. We need a strong presence at Hogwarts. Any staff position we can't maintain control of will be filled by the Ministry, and I know I don't need to tell you what the result will be. Our best weapon is the truth, but the truth is useless if we are not here to make sure the students hear it. The best thing you can do, for all of our sakes, is to make the best of what you have right now. I know it doesn't seem to you like there's any good in this, but there is good that can come from all of this, if you try to find it."

"I'm trying."

"I know."

"I'll try harder," Harry said. He wished his voice didn't sound so unsteady.

Lupin smiled weakly. "I know."

"I..." Harry hesitated. "I can't _like_ someone who doesn't like me, can I?"

"No, I suppose not." Lupin sighed and shook his head. "No. Luckily a boy in your situation can't be expected to like his estranged father... right away. That sort of thing takes time. But Harry... Hadrian doesn't have all the reasons you do for not getting along with Professor Snape."

"Right," Harry said defeatedly. "I know. We've talked about this."

"Yes, but... I expected there would be time. I thought we would have more time before you would have to do this, but..."

"But the Weasleys are here," Harry finished for him.

"Yes, and that changes everything. There is no time. I know you are doing the best you can, and you have done well so far, but you have also been lucky."

Harry nodded, thinking of his very first day at Hogwarts, and just how close he had come to ruining everything.

"Just remember - and this is the most important thing of all, Harry - always assume that what you do is seen and what you say is heard. If you are not sure, for any reason, that it's safe, I need you to assume it's not." Lupin stood abruptly and crossed over the door, smacking it with his wand. A faint glow spread outward from the point of impact. "From now on, unless you _see_ me lock and ward the door, and we are alone, I need you to assume that it isn't safe to say anything - anything - that could reveal who you really are. Understood?"

"I understand."

Lupin glanced at the clock and his lips thinned. "There is never enough time. I had more to tell you, but it can wait. You've been here too long already."

"Right," Harry said, getting up. Then he remembered. "Er... didn't you have something you were going to give me?"

Lupin shuffled papers and books around his desk, finally coming up with a small, narrow box, which he offered to Harry. "A watch. Tells time... among other things."

"Oh," Harry said, trying to make sense of the various numbers, symbols, and numerous moving hands. "Thanks."

"The dial at the top tells the time. I'll show you what the others do later."

"Thanks," Harry said again, fastening the leather strap on his wrist. "This is great."

"You'd best go now. It really is very late. Do you need me to walk with you?"

"No, I'll manage."

"Then, good-night."

"Good-night."

Lupin unlocked the door and opened it, letting Harry out. "Good-night, Hadrian."

"Good-night, Professor."

He didn't look back as the door shut behind him, leaving him alone in the corridor.

He met no one on his way back to his dungeon bedroom, which after Lupin's office seemed dark even with all the lights lit.

He sat down heavily on the edge of his bed, completely exhausted.

It was only the end of his third day at Hogwarts, but the day had felt a year long.

* * *

Harry awoke with a slightly groggy feeling of having overslept, but after checking his new watch he found that it was still long before breakfast. He took his time bathing, especially washing his hair, which seemed determined to tangle into an oily mess. He dressed and went down to the Great Hall.

He didn't see anyone on his way, and somehow, though he could not explain why, the castle's silent emptiness gave him a bad feeling. He checked his watch again, but unless it was wrong, or unless he was reading it wrong - Lupin did say the _top_ dial told the time? - he was still on time.

There was no one in the Great Hall.

Harry sat down and waited, checking his watch impatiently and becoming less and less certain that the top dial did in fact tell time.

If it did tell time, and if he was reading it correctly, then it was twenty minutes past the breakfast hour, and still there was no one but himself in the Great Hall. The feeling of something being wrong grew stronger.

He didn't know exactly where the Weasleys were staying, and it would do him no good to look for them anyway. Lupin's office was not as close as the dungeons, and anyway, he was starting to think he should go back to his room and stay put until someone came for him and explained what was going on.

He got up from the table and got as far as the Entrance Hall before changing his mind.

If something _was_ wrong, someone would have come, woken him up, and told him to stay in his room or take his Cloak and hide... or something. They wouldn't leave him to wander around the castle alone.

No, he had probably overslept, and the watch was probably wrong, and Snape was probably waiting for him to show up for their morning session, ready to berate him about his tardiness.

He hurried down the stairs to the dungeons. Not that it really made any difference how late he was; being even a few seconds late was a criminal offense as far as Snape was concerned.

He rounded the corner and stopped short.

Snape's office door was ajar, flooding the corridor ahead with light.

Harry continued at a slow walk, not relishing the thought of the coming confrontation in the least. He didn't think an open door was a particularly good sign... not that he ever enjoyed standing outside of Snape's office, trying to work up the courage to knock.

He stopped in the doorway, squinting in the unusually bright light but too nervous to wonder about it.

Snape was sitting at his desk. He looked up from the parchment he was holding, setting it down.

"Ah, there you are. Close the door behind you, please, and sit down."

Harry turned automatically to obey, even as a feeling of disorientation washed over him. In the seconds it took to push the door shut, his suddenly sluggish mind tried to make sense of Snape's unexpected tone.

He turned around, trying to keep his muddled feelings from showing on his face, and sat down on the visitor's bench in front of Snape's desk.

"I apologize for being late, sir," he said cautiously. His mind jumped from thought to thought, unable to find focus. Was Snape's usually pale face paler than usual? Was the usually stale air in the dungeon office more stale and stifling than usual? "I went down to breakfast, but -"

"No need to apologize," Snape said. "I had some things to take care of this morning and could not come down at the usual time. If you have not eaten, we shall have breakfast together shortly."

Harry's skin crawled, a drop of sweat running down his spine. Lupin's warning the previous night lurched into his mind.

"That will be great... Dad."

He was keenly aware that his voice fell far short of steady.

Snape's mouth contorted into a semblance of a smile. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, very well."

A cough interrupted Snape's response. "Hrmph. Perhaps I could be introduced?"

Harry's heart jumped nearly out of his chest, the feeling of being plunged into ice cold water slamming into his stomach.

And yet...

And yet, he could not understand for the life of him how he could be startled to see Minister Fudge sitting in the guest chair at the side of Snape's desk, for Minister Fudge had been in that same chair, flanked on either side by two silent Aurors, since the moment Harry had entered Snape's office.


	13. Chapter 13

Fudge checked his large gold pocket watch. It was, Harry noted with sudden understanding, the fourth time he had done so. The painfully prolonged, seemingly pointless conversation was a thinly veiled way of waiting out the effects of Polyjuice Potion. For whatever reason, it seemed Fudge was unwilling to act directly.

"Hrmph," Fudge cleared his throat, snapping the watch shut and putting it away.

Harry knew the required hour must have passed, and since he had failed to change in appearance, as Fudge must have been expecting, there was good reason to believe Fudge would now try something else. His stomach clenched, the muscles sore from an hour of nervous tension.

"This has been most enlightening," Fudge said in a sickeningly false tone. "Always a pleasure to visit Hogwarts and spend time with young people."

Harry forced a smile onto his face, not believing for a moment that Fudge was getting ready to leave. "It was an honor to meet you, Minister."

"Hrmph! Yes, I'm sure it was." Fudge turned to Snape, who had remained silent throughout Harry's interrogation. "Your son is quite charming, Mr. Snape."

"Thank you, Minister," Snape said, inclining his head.

"Still..."

Harry braced himself, for the Aurors who had stood as still and silent as statues at Fudge's side had moved almost imperceptibly, as though readying themselves to obey Fudge's next command.

"You must see the oddness of this, Mr. Snape. I do not trust coincidences, as I have said before."

Snape did not reply.

"Don't want to make it difficult, of course," Fudge said. His hands folded and unfolded in a gesture that seemed almost nervous. "Don't mean to imply that you are not trusted. Our own courts found you at no fault."

Snape inclined his head again, and still remained silent.

Fudge, failing now to hide his fluster, reddened and cleared his throat. "Must be quite certain the school remains a safe place... you understand."

Snape didn't grant him the benefit of indicating any such understanding. Harry tried to fight down the fear that Snape would antagonize Fudge into taking action that might have otherwise been avoided.

"The Office of Child and Family Services was satisfied up to this point, but I must say I find it difficult to believe that you should be named guardian of two minors within the span of a few weeks by mere chance. And now a third!"

Snape's eyebrow arched, and it was only by virtue of five years of familiarity that Harry knew Fudge's last utterance had hit him by surprise.

"And a known Death Eater's son, this time," Fudge finished, his eyes narrowing. "You see why I would be concerned. It is for the safety of the students at this school that I must act."

But Fudge faltered. Perhaps, Harry thought with a hopeful pang, what he had been told was correct, and Fudge no longer had the kind of support that would allow him to act with impunity.

"I'm sure you will agree to a simple procedure to put any remaining suspicions to rest. I had requested it at the hearing..."

"Certainly," Snape said. Harry wasn't sure if he imagined the slight lessening of tension in Snape's voice. "I had no objection then, and have none now."

"Hrmph!" Fudge reddened still more, but now in apparent relief. "Very understanding of you, Mr. Snape. Proceed!"

The last word had been directed to the Aurors, and now the taller of the two produced a pair of small vials filled with pink fluid and bound together by a gold band, while the other Auror produced a sharp silver lancet.

Snape extended his hand across the desk, not flinching as a short incision was made across his finger. Blood dripped slowly into one of the vials, the drops swirling within the pink fluid.

Harry's heart hammered.

The Auror moved toward him, and he had no chance even to glance at Snape, his view blocked.

The cut stung.

The pair of vials were placed on the desk, and Fudge leaned closer, eyes narrowed.

Harry glanced at Snape, unable to stop himself. Snape was not smiling; there was no expression on his face at all, and yet something about his posture struck Harry as smug... utterly unconcerned.

He looked back at the vials of pink potion, where the drops of blood, Snape's and his own, had finally dissolved. A vapor was rising upward through the narrow glass tubes like columns of thin smoke.

Just past the tops of the vials, the twin columns found each other and linked, swirling together until one could not be told apart from the other.

"Ah," said Fudge, sitting back in his chair. It was not difficult to see that he was disappointed. "Well..." He smiled a sort of forced grimace. "Just as I expected, of course." He stood and motioned to the Aurors. "I shall be able to make appropriate recommendations to the Office of Child and Family Services now. Someone will be in touch. Good day!"

"Good day, Minister," Snape said, rising almost lazily out of his chair.

Harry, too, scrambled up.

Fudge, who had already been on his way toward the door, paused and turned, his face so close to Harry's that Harry could feel his slightly wheezing breath. Fudge's eyes raked over Harry's face, searching...

But there was no lightning bolt scar to be found on Harry's forehead, nor any sign of enchantment. There was no reason for the Minister to be aware that the cursed scar had been excised at Voldemort's death. It had left Harry with a serious wound, but one that was free of Dark magic, and though Harry's forehead had been bandaged for weeks, it had healed cleanly, leaving nothing behind.

With a last disappointed "Hrmph!" Fudge strode out of Snape's office, his silent Aurors following close at his heel like shadows. Their footsteps died away.

Harry collapsed back onto the bench, his legs giving out from under him, but was prevented from any other display of relief by a sharp look from Snape.

He repeated Lupin's words in his mind. _Assume everything you do is seen... assume everything you say is heard..._

"That was really weird, Dad," he said in what barely passed as a light tone. "I can't believe I got to meet the Minister of Magic!"

"Well," Snape said, and Harry knew he wasn't imagining the relief in Snape's voice this time, "you're in proper wizard society now. I'm afraid it will be quite a change from the sheltered life you're used to." Snape paused. "Shall we have breakfast now?"

"Sure."

Snape led the way to his quarters. They walked in silence, Harry's ears straining for sounds that should not be there. All was silent.

Snape had his wand out in the same moment the door shut behind them, muttering spells that made the air shimmer and waiver around them even as he strode to the bookshelf in the corner and took from between the pages of a heavy tome a square of parchment that Harry instantly recognized.

Snape's eyes searched over the Marauder's Map for several long minutes before he folded it and put it back inside the book, taking down from another shelf a spindly instrument that he regarded intensely for another minute, then returned to the shelf in favor of a glass ball filled with dark smoke. Finally, that, too, was returned to the shelf.

"They've gone," he said flatly.

Harry's sides ached as for the first time in over an hour he drew in a full breath.

"I need to reinforce the wards around the school," Snape continued in the same flat, empty tone. "Until I've done so you should assume they've left monitoring devices. I need you to go upstairs... I need you to check on Lupin."

The air Harry had drawn into his lungs seemed to turn to lead.

"No telling what they did; he doesn't have the same legal protections, and they were desperate if they came here and dared to perform blood testing already denied through legal channels..." Snape seemed to catch himself suddenly, and rounded on Harry. "Well? Go!"

It was all Harry could do not to run heedlessly up the staircase. Forcing himself to walk, when every second felt like an eternity, was almost beyond his ability.

The door to Lupin's office was closed, but it was thrown open just as he raised his hand to knock.

"Come in, Hadrian," Lupin said in a clipped tone, shutting the door behind him almost before Harry had a chance to get out of the way.

Without giving him a further glance, Lupin returned to the task Harry must have interrupted, which involved viciously stabbing his wand at every object in the cluttered office in turn, muttering spells. Slightly unnerved by the manic energy and the anger etched into Lupin's face, and needing to catch his breath anyway, Harry perched silently on the edge of a chair.

Presently, Lupin appeared satisfied that his office was secure, kicked one of Umbridge's frilled throw pillows to the other end of the room, where it lodged under a cabinet, and reinforced the wards on the door.

He leaned against the door, his slumped shoulders at odds with his clenched fists and barred teeth.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked quietly, afraid of his own voice in the sudden silence.

"Lovely," Lupin said, leaning back his head so that it hit the door with a thump. He closed his eyes. "Had a lovely chat with our unexpected guests."

"They... they didn't...?"

Harry couldn't see any obvious injuries on Lupin, but Lupin was pale and the hand not clenched around his wand was shaking.

"No," Lupin said after a moment. His eyes opened. He looked exhausted. "No."

Harry wasn't certain he believed him. Not after what Snape had said.

With obvious great effort, Lupin seemed to be struggling to pull himself together. "Some way to start the day. I assume Professor Snape is securing the castle?"

"Yes."

"We'll wait."

Lupin sat down in the chair behind his desk, slumping and shutting his eyes.

Harry was sure that if Lupin really was all right, he would be offering tea or asking Harry to tell him what happened or... or at least not look like he was hanging on to consciousness by a thread. He forced back the tide of questions that seemed to need to be asked, wishing he had been standing close enough to Snape to see the Weasleys on the Map.

Ten minutes passed, and then fifteen, according to his watch.

"Professor?"

Lupin grunted, not opening his eyes.

"The Weasleys...?"

"Safe."

"Are you sure?"

"I am."

He wanted to ask how; how everyone but him always seemed to know these things, and why he had been the only one stumbling around the castle unaware of Ministry intruders.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to ask just then.

He was about to check his watch again when a buzzing alerted him to an incoming call through the fireplace. He looked at Lupin in time to see Lupin struggle to sit up, only to fall against the back of the chair, more pale than ever.

"Should I get it?"

"Please do."

Harry kneeled down in front of the fireplace and tossed a pinch of Floo powder.

Snape's head materialized amidst green flames, Snape's eyes narrowing when he saw that it was Harry who had taken his call. "Clear," he said, and with that single word, his head vanished.

Harry had barely stood up and returned to his chair before the door to Lupin's office opened by an unseen force, and Snape himself appeared.

He spared only a momentary glance in Harry's direction. "Go down to the Great Hall and have your breakfast."

Harry hesitated, unwilling to be banished from Lupin's office so easily. Lupin didn't look any better for the potion Snape poured into his mouth. His skin glistened with sweat.

Snape turned to see that he was still there. "Go to Greenhouse 2 and collect fresh sage and mallowsweet. Bring them to my quarters."

The new set of orders suited him better, and, feeling slightly less as though he was being unceremoniously shoved aside, Harry hastened to obey.

It was only as he was cutting the choicest stalks of mallowsweet that it occurred to him that only the day before he would have failed to recognize either one of the plants Snape had sent him for.

The thought that Snape had taught him something of use settled uncomfortably next to his conviction that the study schedule Snape had drawn up for him had been intended to fill up his free time with tedious work.

* * *

Snape accepted the the plants without a word, and then left Harry standing in the chilly corridor, shut out and with no further instructions. What little of Snape's quarters Harry had been able to see showed him a roaring fire but no sign of Lupin.

He waited. Minutes passed, and then an hour, until cold and hunger finally drove him up to the Great Hall, where he picked at the food that appeared in front of him. He still had not seen anyone; no sign that he and Snape and Lupin were not Hogwarts' only inhabitants that morning.

Where was everyone? The Weasleys might have reason to stay in hiding longer, but McGonagall? The castle felt so empty, like all the life had been sapped from it by the unwelcome intrusion of those who meant its occupants harm.

Shoving the plate of food aside, though his stomach still ached with hunger, Harry went back to the dungeons and resumed his vigil outside of Snape's door.

He hadn't expected it to open - Snape clearly didn't want him there... didn't care if Harry was worried about Lupin, or that there was nothing for him to do but worry - but with a whoosh of warm air the door was pushed open. Snape saw Harry at once, revealing no surprise at finding him there.

"Go back to Lupin's office and find his wand," Snape said. "It may be on the corridor floor anywhere between here and there." His lips twitched and thinned, and Harry knew Snape didn't like admitting the oversight. "I didn't notice when he lost his grasp on it."

"I'll find it," Harry said, getting up stiffly, half frozen from sitting on the stone floor for so long. "Do you need me to do anything else?"

"No." But Snape hesitated, as though the word had slipped prematurely from his tongue. "Have you seen the Headmistress?"

"I haven't seen -" The word 'anyone' nearly escaped, but Harry was still on edge, every word examined in his head for the possibility of revealing too much. "- her."

Snape nodded slowly, and Harry couldn't tell if he was worried about McGonagall or if her absence was merely an inconvenience. "Find the wand and return quickly. Lupin can't be left alone and I will need to make another round of the castle."

Harry swallowed. That was not a very reassuring assessment of Lupin's condition.

"Go," Snape said, turning abruptly to go back inside. The door shut behind him.

Harry took out his wand and lit it, and with its additional light began the walk back to Lupin's office, searching the shadows and corners.

The lost wand was not found until he was nearly at the office door. It had rolled underneath a large window with a shattered lower pane, and lay among glittering shards of glass.

Harry plucked it out of the the mess carefully, his boots crunching the glass into dust as he was forced to step across it. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair, fanning him even as warm sunlight hit his face, pleasant after a morning spent in the cold dungeons. He was unable to help the involuntary step forward, toward the window and the warmth. For a moment, he pushed all the mixed up thoughts and pent up worries out of his mind, closed his eyes, and breathed the fresh air deeply.

When he opened his eyes they rested upon Hogwarts' gates and beyond them the dusty road to Hogsmeade.

A lone figure swathed in a hooded cloak made its way slowly up the road, dragging behind it a school trunk, the weight of which finally became too much. The trunk was abandoned in the dust and the traveler pressed onward, stumbling and pausing frequently in apparent effort to catch his breath.

Still yards away from the gate, the strength to keep upright and moving forward seemed to fail him and he fell, crumbling into a heap and not moving again. The hood of the cloak had slipped back in the fall, and the gentle breeze that had felt so good on Harry's face just moments ago blew through pale blond hair.

With a shuddering exhale as his breath choked in his throat, Harry turned away from the window, glass grinding under his boots, and began the long walk back down to the dungeons to deliver Lupin's wand and relieve Snape from his sickbed vigil so that he may retrieve Draco Malfoy's unconscious body from outside the school's gates.


	14. Chapter 14

Even the sound of his own breathing was nearly too much in the tense, fragile silence. Harry thought he had never seen anyone as near the breaking point as Snape was now, though Snape moved methodically, as though there were no great hurry to his actions.

"Continue to administer two drops every two minutes. Keep the plaster moist. Change the water as necessary."

Harry nodded, his trembling fingers curling around the small, narrow-necked bottle Snape pushed into his hands. He was already repeating Snape's instructions in his mind, not wanting to forget anything.

"Don't let him get up, no matter what he may say," Snape warned. He was pulling on his cloak, already striding toward the door even as he gave his final instructions.

"I -"

The door shut behind Snape before Harry could finish.

"- won't."

He checked his watch in sudden panic, but two minutes had not passed since Snape had poured two drops of blue liquid down Lupin's throat.

He had to force himself to reach across the divan and touch the cloth lying across Lupin's eyes and forehead.

Lupin looked dead.

The cloth was wet and cold, and Harry snatched his hand back quickly, shivering and ashamed of himself.

This was not the right time to fall apart.

He checked his watch again. Only four minutes had passed since he had pounded on Snape's door and delivered his ill-timed message. It had taken that long for Snape to show him what to do for Lupin, and that was time on top of how long it had taken Harry to walk, still too uneasy in the violated castle to allow himself to run, from Lupin's office to the dungeons.

He watched the seconds tick by until the very moment it was time to administer the blue potion. He tried, clumsily, to prop up Lupin's head, spilled the first drop, but somehow got the next two into Lupin's mouth.

There was no reaction. Lupin's head lolled limply back onto the pillow as soon as Harry's supporting hand retreated.

He changed the cloth, though it was still moist and cool, just to have something to do, and sat back, watching the seconds tick by again until the next time, and the next, and the next.

* * *

The sound of the door opening made Harry jump, and the bottle wobbled, spilling a drop down Lupin's cheek. With great difficulty, Harry kept himself from turning around until he had finished.

All he saw when he did look was a lifeless bundle wrapped in Snape's cloak, one limp arm dangling, before Snape disappeared into the bedroom.

He checked his watch - it was now something of a compulsion - and stayed where he was, at Lupin's side.

Snape moved through the room several times, never stopping, as he retrieved potions from a cabinet in the corner, but he said nothing to Harry and Harry never found the courage or the right words to break the silence.

He found, now that he was so suddenly presented with the possibility, that he did not want Malfoy to die.

He had no explanation for this feeling, and refused to let himself dwell on it when he needed all of his attention on the task Snape had assigned him. Another two minutes had passed. Two more drops of blue potion that seemed entirely useless, for Lupin never stirred and seemed at times not even to be alive. In the time before Snape's return, there had been a moment when Harry's imagination had run amuck sufficiently that he believed Lupin to have stopped breathing. For a few moments he had been frozen by terror, unable to force himself to lean close enough to feel Lupin's warm breath puff against his face.

Still, the blue potion was all that he had; it was all he could do for Lupin. He was the one at Lupin's bedside, but he did not know what else might be done to help. There was just the potion that didn't seem to make any difference, but it was all that he could do. Two more minutes; two more drops. If it was all he could do, he would at least do that much right.

"Drink this."

"Thank you."

Harry jumped. From what he had seen just minutes earlier, he hadn't expected to hear Malfoy's voice.

"I'll be back shortly."

Harry moved quickly out of the way as Snape took his place.

There was something comforting in the methodical way Snape worked, like he knew exactly what to do for Lupin and the most efficient way to get it done.

"Is he..." Harry started hesitantly. "I mean... he hasn't moved at all."

"Poisoned with truth serum," Snape replied in a clipped tone.

"Poisoned..." Harry frowned. "_Poisoned_ with it?"

Snape huffed in annoyance, but Harry couldn't be sorry for asking. He desperately needed to know.

"Tainted truth serum. We controlled production and we made sure the Ministry's supply would be worthless."

"And now he's been _poisoned_?"

"Unfortunately so. It reacted with any number of potions he has been taking, including the Wolfsbane only a week ago."

Harry swallowed hard. "Is he going to die?"

His own voice, hollow and low, terrified him.

"No." But there had been a fraction of a second of hesitation in Snape's reply. "If I thought the antidote wouldn't react just as badly in a larger dose, this could be taken care of very quickly." Snape stood up, motioning for Harry to take his place. "Administer the potion as before."

Snape rummaged through the potions cabinet and disappeared into the bedroom without another word to Harry.

"Drink this."

"I'm going to be sick."

Harry shuddered as the sound of retching followed shortly thereafter.

"Drink all of it this time." Snape sounded irritated. "I can't help you if you don't follow instructions."

"I tried."

"Try again. There, is that better?"

Two minutes; two more drops of blue potion. Harry tried to keep listening, but gave up when his trembling hands, clumsy with unreleased tension, caused him to spill.

"... and Gregory?"

"I don't know."

"You didn't see?"

"I..." Malfoy's voice broke. "I didn't _want_ to see... after Vincent."

A shiver of foreboding prickled up Harry's spine.

"And Vincent...? Are you certain he was dead?"

"They... they left him in the cell. After. For days."

There was a short silence.

"I'm sorry."

Snape's softly spoken words caused another shiver to tremble through Harry's body. He realized suddenly that his nails had dug holes into the armrest of his chair.

"Hermione... Granger, I mean -"

Harry nearly dropped the bottle of potion, even as his watch told him two minutes were up. With deadened fingers, his ears straining to hear, he tried to pour the required drops of blue liquid into Lupin's mouth.

"- Hermione Granger," Malfoy repeated, as if finally deciding on her name. "Neville wouldn't leave without her, but - do you know? Did she get out?"

Harry's stomach clenched hard enough to double him over, his breath strangled out of his body.

"Yes," Snape said. "Weeks ago."

Oxygen rushed back into Harry's lungs. His vision blurred.

"Good... Luna, too?"

Harry's heart counted out the seconds. The long silence was deafening.

"No," Snape said, finally. "I'm afraid we have no information on Miss Lovegood."

He had forgotten about the bottle. A cold trickle down his wrist alerted him that he was about to drop it, and Harry realized with horror that he had lost all track of time. With great effort, he dragged his eyes off the doorway to Snape's bedroom and to Lupin's face, where he saw, miraculously, that Lupin's bloodshot eyes were open.

"Here - you need to take two drops of this." His voice barely registered above a whisper.

Lupin drank the potion without question, then struggled to sit up as Harry put a restraining hand on his arm.

"Snape said you mustn't."

It was unnecessary, anyway, as Lupin's attempt was unsuccessful. With a gasp, he fell back against the pillow.

"Who is with him?"

"Malfoy."

Lupin's eyes flew open.

"_Draco_ Malfoy," Harry amended, thinking it had been unclear.

But on second thought perhaps it had not been; Lupin looked intently at the bedroom doorway, though neither he nor Harry were in position to see anything beyond.

"Is he hurt?" Lupin asked sharply.

"I..." Harry considered what he had seen. "I guess. He fainted outside the gates and I think he was still out when Snape brought him in. But he's awake now."

Harry glanced at his watch. It seemed hopeless; he had lost track again.

Lupin accepted the potion with only a slightly quizzical expression.

"Every two minutes," Harry explained. He was still trying to listen for any sounds from the bedroom, but either conversation had ceased or Snape had put up a silencing charm.

Lupin was clearly struggling to stay awake. Harry adjusted the blanket, trying to make him more comfortable, and checked his watch again. He wondered if Snape ought to be informed Lupin was awake, in case it made a difference.

As if summoned by Harry's unspoken thoughts, Snape appeared in the doorway, pulling the door quietly shut behind himself.

"I'll be fine, Severus," Lupin said, his scratchy voice hardly audible and falling far short of being convincing. "Do what needs to be done. Please."

Snape ignored him. He replaced the moist cloth even as Lupin succumbed to either sleep or unconsciousness, adjusted the blanket as Harry had done a moment earlier, and wiped the traces of spilled potion off Lupin's face. Even with all of that done, he seemed to hesitate, a frown knotting his eyebrows. Finally, his eyes flicked over to where Harry stood uselessly off to the side, waiting to be told what to do next.

"I still need to make a round of the castle."

Harry nodded mutely.

"I will send Molly Weasley down when I'm certain it's safe, but it may be a while."

Harry nodded again. His tongue had dried out, sticking to the roof of his mouth.

"He should be over the worst of it now. Administer a capful of potion every ten minutes." Even as he said this, Snape was demonstrating by pouring blue liquid from the bottle into the hollow on one end of the glass stopper. "Hold his head up when you do so; the larger amount poses a risk of choking."

Harry accepted the offered bottle, still unable to speak.

Snape hesitated again, his lips twitching unpleasantly. "Draco may wake. I can't give him a sleeping draught in his present condition."

Harry swallowed convulsively, though there was no trace of saliva in his mouth.

"If he does wake, I left a meal on a table in the bedroom." With a swish of Snape's wand, there suddenly appeared a set of covered plates and goblets on a tray on a small table in the corner of the room. "I doubt Lupin will be interested in food, but you need to eat. It is unlikely we will have regular meals today. Eat when you need to."

Harry felt anything but hungry, but he only nodded again, and Snape, with a final intense glance at Lupin, turned and left.

For a few moments Harry simply stood in silence, his mind oddly blank.

Then, feeling the returning weight of responsibility, he sighed and checked his watch, noting the position of the hands and repeating over in his mind, as though he could possibly forget, what needed to be done.

"Professor Snape?"

For a second, Harry wanted to ignore the hoarse voice from the bedroom. It was too much, really. It was too much to ask of him right then, after everything else.

But he couldn't.

Reluctantly, he pushed open the door.

A low-burning torch flared to full flame, so that he wasn't stepping into darkness, and his eyes fell at once on the bed and its occupant.

It was a shock, even though he had been prepared to find Malfoy looking as ill as someone who had needed to be carried in might look, to find he hardly recognized the boy in Snape's bed. The blond hair and pale grey eyes were all that was familiar in the skeletal, ashen face. Malfoy seemed to be dressed in one of Snape's nightshirts, and he was drowning in it. The top buttons, left unfastened, revealed jutting, sharp collarbones.

"Who are you?"

Harry fought to force himself into the Hadrian persona. Hadrian, who had never met Malfoy, would not still be standing in the doorway, glued to the spot by his inability to settle conflicting emotions of contempt and horror.

And then, now that he was facing Malfoy, came the heavy feeling of dread about what it would all mean, and how much more complicated everything had become in so short a time. This was one of those times he had been repeatedly warned about. This was one of those times when every word he said had to be picked over with utmost care.

"Hadrian," he answered. His tongue felt wooden from lack of use. "My dad brought you in. He's a teacher here."

Malfoy's face wrinkled in a frown. "Professor Snape?"

"Yes. Are you a student at this school?"

"Of course I am," Malfoy said, struggling to sit up. "Wait. Your _dad_? Professor _Snape_?"

Harry could feel as well as see Malfoy's eyes raking him over from head to toe, and even though he knew what Malfoy was seeing, it was an uncomfortable feeling.

"He's never said anything about a son before."

"No?" Harry tried to put some challenge into his voice. "Well, I only just found out myself this summer. When my mother died."

Malfoy blinked. "Oh. Sorry." He paused, as if expecting some reply, but Harry knew the weaknesses in his story too well to volunteer more information. "I'm Draco. I -"

But whatever Malfoy had been going to say was cut short by a bout of coughing.

Without thinking about it, Harry fetched a glass of water from the table at the side of the bed.

"Thanks," Malfoy gasped as soon as the coughing fit had passed.

"No problem," Harry said grudgingly, preoccupied by a thought that had just occurred to him. Malfoy had given him only his first name. He would have to be extra careful not to address him as _Malfoy_, at least until someone else did so. The number of things he had to remember every time he opened his mouth seemed to be growing at a dangerous pace.

"Where is Professor Snape?" Malfoy asked, craning his neck as if hoping to see Snape lurking just beyond the doorway.

Harry hesitated. Malfoy didn't need to know Snape was out securing the castle, did he? That implied there weren't others who could do the job, didn't it? But Malfoy didn't look like he was going anywhere anytime soon, so that information would do him no good if...

Well, _if_.

There were a lot of things that could fall under that category, weren't there? Harry had no way of knowing where Malfoy had come from or... anything. And that meant Malfoy didn't need to be handed information.

But how to explain Snape's absence?

"He had to take care of something," Harry said, finally. "He said he might be gone a while." Seizing on a diversion, he motioned at the tray sitting on the table. "He said to make sure you ate, if you woke up before he came back."

"Oh," Malfoy said, obviously disappointed. He tried to sit up, managing to get mostly upright by propping himself up against the headboard. "Can you put the tray closer?"

Harry did so, setting the tray down carefully on the bed. A covered bowl steamed lightly next to a goblet of pumpkin juice. His own stomach growled, and he remembered the food Snape had left in the other room.

He had already been wondering how he would get back in time to give Lupin his potion, especially since it occurred to him that he did not want Malfoy to find out about Lupin just yet. Now an idea came to him.

"I have my own meal in the other room, if you don't need me."

"Of course. Go ahead."

Harry checked on Lupin, but Lupin's condition had not changed and there was nothing Harry could do for him but to administer the potion and readjust the blanket.

He sat at Lupin's side for a while, but the nagging presence of Malfoy in the next room was impossible to ignore. Though he had no desire to spend any more time in Malfoy's company than he already had spent, he found himself carrying the tray into the bedroom.

Malfoy had his tray set over his knees. Harry stopped short as he saw what was on the plate, and had to force his face back into a neutral expression as he took a seat in the only chair in the room. With a sinking feeling he uncovered one of the plates on his own tray.

He couldn't help sighing with relief to see the plate was overloaded with toast, eggs, and sausages.

He looked from his own plate to Malfoy's.

Malfoy prodded a greyish lump with his fork. It fell apart into a soggy mess.

"You can have some of this," Harry offered charitably. "I'm not going to finish all of it."

Malfoy shook his head.

"But that stuff's disgusting."

Malfoy poked at another lump, chewing and swallowing with a grimace. "How would you know?"

Harry frowned.

"Your own mother didn't starve you, did she?" Malfoy went on, his voice taking on a vicious tone.

"Er..." Harry felt like he had blundered into something he wasn't quite prepared for. But then, he'd been feeling that way for a long time now. "No."

Malfoy stabbed another lump with his fork. "Great. At least you still have your father. He's all right."

Harry bit his lip, but couldn't stop himself. "What about your parents?"

Malfoy's scowl deepened. He let the fork clatter to his plate and fixed Harry with a glare, but after a moment seemed to decide against retorting. Picking up the fork again, he turned his glare on the food instead.

"Sorry," Harry said, almost feeling it. He'd known he shouldn't have asked.

Malfoy swallowed another forkful of food and made a face. "My father was in Azkaban."

"Oh," Harry said quietly.

"My mother was packing up, talking about going abroad until things calmed down." Malfoy huffed derisively. "Of course I thought she meant the two of us. Death Eaters -" He paused. "You know about that, don't you?"

"Yeah," Harry said, trying hard to keep his voice even. "I know about that."

"My father was one," Malfoy said. His voice dropped so low that Harry unconsciously leaned forward. "I didn't know she was. I never thought to be afraid of her."

"Your... mother?" Harry asked. Involuntarily, he swallowed. Whatever he had expected, he hadn't expected to hear that Malfoy had been afraid of his own parents.

"Maybe I should have," Malfoy went on, as if not hearing him. He stared unseeingly at the wall, his fork lying abandoned on the duvet. "Aunt Bella was her sister."

Harry swallowed again, his throat constricting and choking his breath out of him.

"There were raids. All the Death Eater families... and the ones who supported Dumbledore and Potter." Malfoy paused, grimacing. "Funny thing, isn't it?"

Harry nodded numbly.

"Aurors came in the middle of the night. She just stood there when they arrested me."

Harry stared at him. He tried to imagine how that might have been, but for some inexplicable reason his own mum's last moments played out in his head, instead. "Maybe she couldn't -"

"Naive, aren't you?" Malfoy smiled mirthlessly, shaking his head. "No. That was how she stayed free."

Harry found that there was absolutely nothing to say to that.

"They let me go after my father got out of prison, but I refused to take the floo back to the Manor, so -" Malfoy shrugged. He blinked, his eyes refocusing, and looked around for the dropped fork, wiping it on a napkin before stabbing it into another grey lump on his plate. "That's all, really."

The silence stretched while Harry tried to think of what he should say.

"How about you? What did Professor Snape try to feed you this glop for?"

"I..." Harry thought desperately, but his mind was still a blank. This is what he got for feeling sorry for Malfoy and saying more than he ever should have. "I don't know."

Malfoy swallowed another forkful of food and looked like he was fighting the urge to gag. He sipped his pumpkin juice. "It's all right if you don't want to say. I understand."

Harry's mouth fell open in a retort, but somehow no sound came out.

Malfoy picked up his fork again, then put it down, drawing in several shallow breaths. "Look, can you take your food somewhere else? The smell is making me ill."

"Sure," Harry said, suddenly wanting to get away from Malfoy and his problems and his questions and his sickening food.

He pushed the bedroom door half shut behind him, his hand clenched so hard on the doorknob that his fingers ached with the strain. He couldn't get his breath back, and the effort of keeping his gasps for air inaudible was making his chest feel like it was on fire.

Looking up, he saw Lupin's eyes on him, and that was exactly what he didn't want just then. Didn't want Lupin to see him like this, or for Lupin to have heard anything he'd said or Malfoy had said. Didn't want to be told to be more careful, or to be more understanding, or more anything that Lupin usually thought he should be.

He managed to uncurl his hand from the doorknob, set down his food tray, and took a few deep breaths before he finally felt up to turning around to face Lupin again.

"Are you all right?" Lupin asked quietly, his voice still scratchy, but stronger.

"No," Harry said, not caring that he was saying it just to be contrary. "What did you hear?"

A bit of a smile tugged at the corner of Lupin's mouth. "Everything, I'm afraid."

"Great."

Lupin had pulled himself up into a half sitting position with two cushions propping him up. His hands were resting over the duvet, his wand held loosely. "Come sit, Harry."

Harry jerked around to look at the bedroom door, still partly open.

"It's all right, I reset the silencing charm."

Harry had to take another deep breath before he could trust himself to look at Lupin without glaring.

"Come. Sit."

Harry sat down, looking Lupin over. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much." Lupin reached for the bottle of blue potion and carefully measured out the next dose. He drank it with only a mild grimace. "Thank you for taking care of me. I realize it must have been frightening."

"I thought you were going to die," Harry said bluntly. "I think Snape thought so too."

Lupin carefully replaced the glass stopper, screwing it on tightly. He reached over the place the bottle back on the table. "Hmm."

Harry frowned. That wasn't an answer at all... though he supposed he hadn't actually asked a question. Maybe he'd just wanted some reassurance. Was that too much to ask?

"I know you've had a rough morning," Lupin said placatingly, likely misreading Harry's silence as anger. "It placed a heavy burden on your shoulders, and for that I'm truly sorry."

"All right," Harry said. He was finding that sometimes it was easier just to agree and let it go. A huff of annoyance escaped, though he really did not want to argue with Lupin, on top of everything else. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

Lupin hesitated. Then he smiled encouragingly. "I'm sure a few days of rest will do me a lot of good."

Right. Rest. And how was anyone supposed to get any rest when even Hogwarts wasn't safe? Harry swallowed hard and tried to match Lupin's smile, but it was difficult.

Lupin was looking at him in that scrutinizing way again, as if he was judging whether an outburst was coming or if it was safe to change the subject.

Harry let out a breath, suddenly realizing how tense his shoulders were and that he had his arms tightly around himself, nails digging into flesh.

"Would you do something for me?"

"Sure," Harry said. His face felt odd. He was almost certain whatever expression he was wearing just then wasn't even close to a smile.

"Go over to that bookcase over there -"

Harry followed the movement of Lupin's hand. "You want the Map?"

Lupin fell silent, scrutinizing him again, and Harry realized uncomfortably that his voice had been a lot harsher than he'd intended.

"Yes, the Map," Lupin said slowly, as though he regretted ever asking.

"I saw Snape using it before," Harry said, trying to shrug in what he hoped was an unconcerned way. "It doesn't matter."

That was a lie. It did matter. Somehow he had thought Lupin was the one who was keeping his things. What else did Snape have? His album? Years worth of letters from his friends?

He got up abruptly and went over to the bookcase, removing the thick book that held the Map. He took a deep breath before turning around and carrying it back to Lupin. Just then, with everything else, it really wasn't worth discussing.

"Thank you, Harry."

Harry nodded and sat down again, crossing his arms over his chest. He watched Lupin unfold the map, angry with himself for forgetting that Snape had not deactivated it. If he had just unfolded it while carrying it, he might have had enough time to find the Weasleys. Lupin was keeping the Map at just such an angle that Harry could see absolutely nothing. Why was that necessary?

"How come you didn't summon it?" He pursed his lips, hating how the question had come out. Why did he always sound so angry lately, even when he wasn't? Not at Lupin, anyway. "I mean... you've got your wand."

Lupin's hand closed around his wand and he turned it over slowly between his fingers, as though it was something unfamiliar. "Didn't want to chance it, with all the delicate things Professor Snape keeps on that bookshelf."

"Are you sure you're feeling all right?" Out of habit, Harry's eyes darted to his watch. "I think you need to take the potion again."

Lupin's eyes never left the Map, but he reached blindly for the potion bottle on the table.

"Here, I'll get it," Harry said exasperatedly. He snatched the bottle off the table and measured out the dose.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Is there some reason I can't look at the Map?"

Lupin looked up, lowering the Map to his lap. He blinked at Harry, frowning slightly. "I suppose not. I hadn't thought of it. You won't find the Weasleys on it and there's no one else in the castle who would interest you."

"Oh," Harry said. His shoulders slumped dejectedly. So much for that idea. "Who are you looking for, then?"

"It's just something to do. I'm useless here. At least I can keep an eye on the entrances until the castle is secure again."

"You are not useless," Harry said indignantly. "I think I'd go mad if I didn't have you."

Lupin tilted his head to one side, studying him again.

"Here, I mean," Harry amended, feeling heat creep up the back of his neck. Sometimes he really couldn't tell if Lupin was very keen on being counted among the very few trusted adults Harry still had in his life. "If I didn't have you here, I'd be alone with Snape and - and Malfoy, so..." He trailed off, scowling, because once again he had somehow managed to say the very thing Lupin didn't want to hear from him. Why could he never see it coming before it was out of his mouth and it was too late?

Lupin let a few uncomfortable moments go by in silence, and then let it go without comment. "How is Draco? I should have asked before. Is he very unwell?"

"He looks terrible."

"But he's speaking. He's very coherent. That's a good sign."

"I suppose so. Professor..." Harry stopped and chewed his lip. He wanted answers, but he had already managed to put Lupin on guard, and that was never very conducive to getting the truth out of him. "Earlier Malfoy was talking about my friends like he'd seen them. Like they'd been wherever he was." He stared straight into Lupin's eyes, refusing to be put off this time, when it was so important. "Are any of my friends going to show up looking as bad as him?"

"They may," Lupin said, his voice low. He didn't break eye contact, but there was a nervous twitch in a vein on his temple as he paused, waiting to see if Harry was about to explode. "We tried to help as many people as we could."

"You told me -" Harry's voice broke, and he had to swallow before he could continue, forcing the words out. "You told me my friends were safe."

"And they were, by the time you asked. Hermione was released long before you arrived at Grimmauld Place. Neville, too. Molly and Arthur went into hiding rather than risk any of their children being detained."

"Luna?" Harry asked, remembering Snape's words and tone.

Lupin pursed his lips, like he didn't want to answer. After a moment he shook his head.

"You don't know?"

"We don't know. It looked like she had left with her father. House locked up, nothing disturbed. You have to understand, Harry, that it was chaos. Whole families were going into hiding. Some were barricading themselves in their homes. People were going missing every day, and we didn't always know if it was by choice or not. You don't tell a lot of people if you're planning to run."

"And Luna?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Her father was found dead a few days ago. That was our first clue they hadn't left voluntarily, and that Luna could be among the detained."

Harry became suddenly aware that he had clenched his hands so hard he had drawn blood. "It's my fault, isn't it? It's because she went with me."

"We -"

"Or because we used the Quibbler last year," Harry cut in, unable to stop. "Malfoy said they grabbed anyone who supported me."

Lupin rubbed his forehead and sighed. "That is true. Though in most cases I would say it could have just as easily been their support of Dumbledore."

"But not in Luna's case. It was me."

"You can't blame yourself." Lupin caught one of Harry's hand and stared with a frown at the smudge of blood on the palm. "We had no idea things could deteriorate to the point of Aurors coming to snatch children from their homes."

Harry drew a shaky breath. "So... Luna could be dead right now. You don't know."

"I don't know," Lupin repeated softly. "I'm sorry, Harry. We did everything we could do for those people we could help. We're trying to find out what happened to her, and others like her."

Suddenly, Harry was trying to think of others he might have endangered. Who else was too close to him? Would they know who was in the D.A.? Hadn't that list got out? Had Fudge kept it, or had it been taken from him in the aftermath of Dumbledore's failed arrest? If they had it... for God's sake, _Dumbledore's Army_, led by _Harry Potter_. How could that fail to paint a giant target on someone's back?

Lupin still had his hand and was rubbing it comfortingly. "Are you all right?"

"No," Harry said, completely honestly this time. "Why is this happening? Why -" He made a helpless gesture, unable to find the right words. "I don't understand."

"Terrible things happen in a war."

"Why can't it just be over?" He just couldn't let go of the belief that it should all have been over with Voldemort's death. It should have been over. "He's dead. Why isn't it over?"

Lupin sighed, shook his head, and didn't answer.

Harry felt hollow inside. He wasn't even angry anymore. Just tired and numb.

"Harry?"

"I think it's time for your potion," Harry said, forcing himself to look at his watch so he wouldn't have to look at Lupin. After following the second hand around the dial, he finally looked up. "I'm okay."

Lupin looked at him for a long moment. Then he nodded, silently accepting the end of the conversation, and reached for the potion bottle.

For a while, Harry was content to sit quietly, keeping an eye on his watch as Lupin continued to examine the Map. He felt incredibly tired, which he supposed wasn't much of a surprise. He'd been running on adrenaline all morning, and now he wouldn't mind crawling back in bed.

"Anything?" he asked, thinking Lupin was staring just a little too intently at one corner of the Map.

"Mrs. Weasley is on her way here."

"Oh. Right... Snape said he'd get her."

Lupin drew in a breath, and Harry reckoned he was about to be reminded to be more respectful, but Lupin just let it out slowly, gave him a mildly reproachful look, and went back to the Map.

Harry suddenly realized what Lupin must have wanted the Map for. He felt a bit foolish for not thinking of it earlier. "Are you watching him? Is he almost done with the wards?"

"Yes, done. He's in the Headmaster's -" Lupin caught himself, wincing. "The Headmistress' office."

"Is she back?"

"No, she isn't." Lupin frowned at the Map. "Maybe you ought to check on Draco."

Harry turned to look at the door. He didn't at all want to talk to Malfoy again. "What for?"

"In case he needs something." Lupin lowered the Map to better be able to give Harry another reproachful look. "Mrs. Weasley has enough to do looking after her own children."

Harry got up and walked as quietly as he could to the door, only remembering the silencing charm once he got there and feeling foolish again. He looked in. "He's asleep."

"Good. It sounds like he needs the rest."

Harry spotted the food tray dangerously close to the bed's edge and sighed with resignation. It wouldn't do to have it come crashing to the floor and wake Malfoy up.

He tiptoed into the bedroom, creeping up to the foot of the bed.

Malfoy didn't stir.

"Great," Harry muttered to himself.

He knew his imagination was running away from him again, but he stared at Malfoy until he was quite sure he had seen his chest rise and fall twice with even breathing. Annoyed with himself, he retrieved the tray and left the room quickly.

"Everything all right?"

"Perfect," Harry said, sitting down again. "Just perfect."

Lupin glanced down at the Map, then back at Harry. "You'd best get ready."

Harry swallowed and looked at the door, half expecting Mrs. Weasley to burst in.

That was silly of course. Snape would never allow that.

He was so on edge that the knock, though expected, made him jump. "I'll get it," he said stupidly.

"Thank you, Hadrian," Lupin said, giving him a pointed look.

"Right," Harry said. Back to being Hadrian, then, and watching every word that came out of his mouth. Somehow, he couldn't help being grateful for the reminder. "Thanks."

He walked quickly to the door and opened it, letting Mrs. Weasley bustle in like a minor tornado.

She crossed the room before Harry had even opened his mouth in a greeting. Ignoring him, she started to fuss over Lupin in a way that made Harry glad he wasn't the one ill this time.

"How are you, Remus? Never mind! I can see you're running a fever."

Harry looked at Lupin more closely. All he knew was, Lupin looked distinctly better than before. Now that Mrs. Weasley mentioned it, however, Lupin didn't look all that well at all.

"Tsk, tsk... Severus should have let me come sooner."

"Never mind, Molly. You know we couldn't risk it. You're here now."

"You!"

Harry jumped, blinking. "Yes, ma'am?"

She sized him up, her eyes slightly narrowed. "Tell me what's been done for him."

"Uh..." Harry's brain refused to work for a moment. "That potion, there. He needs to take it every ten minutes."

Mrs. Weasley picked up the potion bottle and held it up to the light. "Poisoned," she muttered angrily. "Of all things...! I suppose you're fortunate they didn't drag you down to the Ministry, this time."

Harry shivered, imagining what might have happened.

"Well, I don't dare give you anything else. Let's see if we can't make you more comfortable."

Lupin had a distinctly miserable expression on his face by the time Mrs. Weasley was done with him. She had conjured a scratchy-looking woolen blanket and cocooned him in it, leaving only his head free. He looked the very opposite of comfortable, but Mrs. Weasley seemed quite satisfied with her work.

"Now," she said, looking from Lupin to Harry, "where is the boy?"

"In there," Harry said, pointing at the bedroom. He rather wanted to see what she might do to Malfoy. "He's sleeping though."

To his great disappointment, she shut the door behind her.

"Hadrian," Lupin said in a strained tone, "would you mind putting this bit of parchment back where you found it?"

Harry's eyes darted toward the Map, which Lupin had apparently had time to put out of Mrs. Weasley's way. It was folded, but he could see it was now blank.

He replaced it into the old book and returned it to the shelf. He wondered if this might be the last time he saw it for a while. Snape wasn't likely to leave it there, in a place Harry now knew about.

He looked at the closed bedroom. He couldn't hear anything from the other side.

"Do you need anything, Professor?"

"No," Lupin said shortly. He had worked one hand out from under the blanket and was scratching his neck. "Thank you just the same."

Harry shrugged and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

"- stay in bed!" The bedroom door flew open, revealing Mrs. Weasley with an armload of folded bed sheets.

Harry tried to get a look inside, but she pushed the door firmly shut.

"You - boy - Hadrian, isn't it?"

Before Harry could make much more than a surprised squeak in answer, the entire pile of laundry was dropped into his arms, nearly tipping him over.

"Find some clean towels for me, will you, dear?" Mrs. Weasley said, slightly more warmly. She gave him a bit of a push toward a door Harry had not taken notice of before. "Be quick about it."

Harry shuffled off toward the door, dawdling just enough that he saw her sink down next to Lupin, rubbing her forehead and sighing.

"It's a crime, Remus. A crime. When I think about what might have happened if we hadn't left when we did... That could be my Ron in there, or Ginny, or -"

"You can't let yourself dwell on it. Your family is safe."

Reluctantly, Harry pushed open the door in front of him, and found himself in a cold, cavernous bathroom. He looked around at the stone walls and heavy marble sink and bathtub, and couldn't help shivering.

There was a hamper in a corner, so he dropped everything inside.

He opened several cabinets - most were filled with bottles, flasks, and vials of unknown liquids - until he found one that contained towels. Scooping up a stack of them, he hurried back, hoping to catch more of the conversation.

He stopped short, staring with near incomprehension.

Snape was back. He had McGonagall with him, and McGonagall had her arm around a pale, thin girl who was almost lost inside a dark green cloak Harry recognized as being one McGonagall wore in colder weather.

It took several moments for him to force himself to recognize the girl as Luna. Her hair had been savagely cropped short and she had a vacant expression on her pinched face. She was staring straight ahead.

"It isn't your fault at all, Minerva," Mrs. Weasley was saying.

Harry tore his eyes off Luna to better understand what was being said.

"Yes, it was clearly planned," Snape said. He glanced up, looking straight at Harry. "They wanted you out of the castle."

"If you hadn't gone," Lupin added firmly, "we don't know if they would have let her go. It was the only thing to do."

"You're right, I know." McGonagall sighed, shaking her head. "I just can't help thinking how many people were endangered."

"We're all right," Mrs. Weasley said, patting McGonagall on the shoulder comfortingly. "It was too early for any of us to be out and about." She turned to Luna with a smile that seemed forced. "How are you, dear?"

A long moment passed silently. Luna continued to stare unseeingly.

"She hasn't spoken," McGonagall said, her lips thinning into a white line. "Your daughter is a friend, isn't she?"

"Yes. Ginny has been worried sick."

"It might help. Will you take her upstairs?"

"Of course." Mrs. Weasley wrapped an arm around Luna and steered her toward the door. "Let me know if there is anything else I can do. Arthur and I feel so damn useless!"

"You shouldn't. You've both helped a great number of people, and now you have your own children to take care of."

Snape stepped out of Mrs. Weasley's way, pushing the door open for her. "I will be up shortly. Give her water or weak tea, but no food yet."

"I must go," McGonagall said. "I fear there may have been more -" She cut herself short suddenly, her eyes darting in Harry's direction. She gave Snape a meaningful look. "I will find you when I know more."

Snape held the door open for her, giving her a curt nod as she passed. He shut the door as soon as she was through, casting a spell with a tap of his wand against the wood, and then turning slowly around, drawing in a long breath.

"That's one more," Lupin said quietly.

"Yes," Snape said, exhaling slowly. "How do you feel?"

"Rather well, actually," Lupin said. "Molly's right, but compared to earlier..."

"Right," Snape said, pushing away from the door with another deep breath. "Let me see for myself."

He stopped in front of the divan and picked up Lupin's arm by the wrist. He brought the tip of his wand down to touch first the wrist and then the back of Lupin's hand, frowning slightly. After a few moments he nodded. "You can drink the rest of the potion, but I want you to rest."

"I feel -"

"Don't start, Lupin," Snape said shortly, dropping Lupin's hand like it had burned him. "I'm not in the mood to either argue with you or to watch that you don't set yourself back. I'll find it a lot easier to focus on what needs to be done if I don't have to worry about you on top of everything else."

Lupin's mouth snapped shut. A spot of red appeared on each cheek, and his eyes narrowed slightly, but he stayed silent.

Snape sniffed derisively, but there was a bit of contrition in his expression, like he hadn't meant to snap at Lupin quite that harshly. "I will be more inclined to believe that you're better when you aren't burning up with fever."

"I'm hardly burning up."

"You have a fever. I don't have time to discuss this."

"Then don't."

Looking irritated, Snape turned and stalked over to the potions cabinet, taking out several bottles and vials. He glanced at Lupin only once, apparently decided it was useless to say anything, and disappeared into the bedroom.

Harry, who had watched everything silently from a corner between a large bookshelf and the bathroom door, stepped forward cautiously.

"Er..."

"Oh, Harry," Lupin said, looking at him like he only just remembered he was there. "Are you all right?"

"I... think so."

The truth was, he wasn't exactly sure. His mind was whirling at mad speed, trying to make sense of everything he had been allowed to overhear. He was starting to feel a headache coming on; a dull pounding in his temples.

"We won't need those. You can just put them back."

Harry looked down at the stack of towels he still held. They had become rather unraveled and wrinkled, being squashed so tightly to his chest. "Oh. Okay."

"Put them in with the laundry," Snape said, barely glancing at Harry as he stepped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him. He walked over to the potions cabinet and rummaged through it, taking out several more bottles. "I will be back shortly," he said to Lupin. "Do you need anything from your office?"

"No."

"Kitchen?"

"I'm capable of summoning food myself," Lupin said, in contradiction of the earlier incident with the Marauder's Map. "But thank you."

Snape paused, frowning.

"We're fine here, Severus. Just do what you need to."

Snape's mouth thinned, but he only nodded. The door swung open before he even reached it, and then shut behind him.

The silence after Snape's exit was oppressive. Harry glanced at Lupin, but Lupin was looking away from him, turning his wand over absently in his hands.

Harry backed away quietly until he was in the bathroom again. He dropped the rumpled towels into the hamper and leaned both hands on the cold counter, staring into an ancient, slightly warped mirror.

His black eyes had dark circles under them, like he hadn't slept in days.

Which, funnily enough, was exactly how he felt.


	15. Chapter 15

"You're joking, right?" Harry looked from Lupin to Snape, then back again. "Right now?"

"Hogwarts was not this morning's only target," Lupin said. "Several of your friends will be arriving at Hogwarts. I thought you would want to be there when they do."

"But... is it safe?"

Snape snorted. "Safe? As much as anything is safe. Go, Potter. You have one hour."

Still not believing this was happening, Harry moved toward the fireplace. "What do I need to say?"

"'Professor Lupin's office' will do," Lupin said. He smiled encouragingly. "Go on, Harry. You deserve this. Have fun."

Harry stepped into the fireplace, but he couldn't help looking back suspiciously one last time. He had learned, over the last two weeks, that things were rarely done for his enjoyment. "What should I tell them?"

"That you're safe," Lupin said. "That you can't come to Hogwarts right now."

He wanted to go. It almost didn't matter why he was being sent, when it seemed so risky after everything that had just happened. Besides, they wouldn't tell him the truth anyway. He could see it in the forced smile Lupin had plastered on his face. They wanted him to go, and they expected him to pretend he believed it was being done because he _deserved it_.

Harry took a pinch of Floo powder and tossed it at his feet. "Professor Lupin's office!"

A spot had been cleared among the mess on Lupin's desk, and there stood the two familiar goblets of potions, one bronze and one silver, next to Harry's old clothes, shoes, and glasses.

He changed quickly, not bothering to fold the clothes he took off. His vision blurred as soon as he put on his glasses, but cleared again a few moments after he drank the first potion. He removed the watch Lupin had given him, laying it carefully on the desk. There had been a Muggle wristwatch lying on the table next to his clothes, and he put it on.

He checked the time.

One hour. A little less, really, because he had to be back in Lupin's office before time ran out, and because it would take time to get to the seventh floor.

Even though he had been told the castle was secure, his heart sped up at every corner. He half expected to run into an Auror who had stayed behind just waiting for him to come out of hiding.

"Harry!"

Harry spun around, only to be knocked back, almost into a wall, by Ron.

"Harry! They actually let you come!"

Harry felt himself grinning like a loon.

"Everyone's waiting," Ron said, finally letting go of him. "Come on, it's this way."

They ran down the corridor together, Ron pulling Harry by the sleeve.

"The Room of Requirement?" Harry asked, suddenly realizing where Ron was taking him. "Is that where you're staying?"

"It's great! No one can get in unless they know exactly what to ask for."

They stopped in front of an empty section of wall.

Ron gave Harry an apologetic look. "Sorry mate, you're going to have to turn around and close your eyes."

Harry shrugged and did so. He could hear Ron pacing behind him.

"HARRY!"

Harry was nearly knocked off his feet again, this time by nearly the entire Weasley family. He found himself grinning and hugging and shaking hands over and over, not able to get a word in edgewise but not caring at all.

"Come in!" Mrs. Weasley said, dragging him away from Fred and George. "The hallway is no place... oh, Fred, let him alone!"

The Room of Requirement had turned itself into something that half resembled the Gryffindor common room and half the Burrow. Harry hardly knew where to look first.

It was a while before Ron was able to pull him aside.

"Tell me you're here to stay."

Harry had known it was coming. Ron had been trying to get him alone for the previous ten minutes.

He shook his head. "Sorry, Ron, I have to get back soon. They only let me come to see that you were all safe."

Ron's face fell. "But it's safe here. Can't you tell them that... wait, who's _them_, anyway?"

"Sorry, Ron," Harry repeated, looking down. "I can't say. We're all safer that way."

He expected Ron to argue, but when he looked up, Ron only nodded.

"We're safer if we're not all in one place," Harry said, as if Ron had argued. "They're looking for me, I think... mostly."

Ron's shoulders jerked and fell defeatedly. "It's just... they said to expect someone, and I thought... I guess they meant Luna. She came this morning."

Harry, suddenly remembering, turned to look around the room, but Luna was not there. "Where is she? Is she all right?"

"She's in Ginny's bunk. Sleeping, I think. Snape gave her some potions and she's been out since." Ron stopped, frowning. "I don't know, Harry. She's pretty bad. I don't know what they did to her."

Harry swallowed.

"Mum says -"

But Harry did not get to hear what Mrs. Weasley had said.

Ginny sped past them, grabbing them by the arms and hauling them up. "Come on!"

"Ginny - what?"

Harry, getting rather used to being grabbed and pulled along, simply ran after her.

"They're here!" Ginny said over her shoulder, as if that explained everything.

The door of the Room of Requirement opened before they reached it, and Ginny dragged them down the corridor.

"_Who_ is here?" Ron demanded.

"Hermione and Neville, of course! Didn't you listen to anything McGonagall said?"

Harry tripped and almost fell; Ron grabbed him by the arm.

The next few moments were complete chaos. They couldn't seem to get straight whom they had already hugged, and so Harry ended up hugging everyone, including Ron and Ginny, at least a dozen times each before they were done with it.

"I don't believe it," Hermione said, pressing her hands to her mouth and looking like she might cry. "I don't believe it - Harry! Ron! Ginny! I had no idea you were here! They wouldn't tell us anything!"

Harry felt his grin slip. "I'm only visiting." Hastily, he added, "Ron's whole family's here though, and Luna, too."

Hermione was still looking at them like she thought they might all vanish in a plume of smoke any moment. Her eyes were very bright. "I'm so glad you're all safe. They wouldn't tell us. They wouldn't tell us _anything_."

Harry, who suddenly remembered what Lupin had told him, stepped back so he could see both Hermione and Neville. Neither of them looked nearly as bad as Luna or Malfoy, but he was sickened to realize that Hermione had grown painfully thin, while Neville, who had always been plump, had lost so much weight that his clothes hung oddly.

"What?" Hermione asked, frowning slightly as she saw him staring.

"I heard you were detained."

There was a collective silence.

"Come on," Ron said, his voice suddenly hushed. "Let's get back. Mum will be on us for making all this noise out here."

Silently, they walked together back to the Room of Requirement.

There was another joyful scene, but this time Harry and Ron hung back, talking in low voices.

"What did you hear?"

"Just what I said. They're not telling me much either, Ron."

"It's so..."

"Frustrating, I know," Harry said, feeling like he wanted to punch a wall as he watched Ginny and Hermione disappear up a short, spiral staircase at one end of the Room of Requirement. "It's our friends this is happening to!"

"Shh," Ron warned. "Mum's looking at us."

Though Mrs. Weasley continued to shoot concerned looks their way, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Neville gathered at a small table in the corner of the room and continued to exchange information in low tones.

"Neville and I've hardly stayed in one place longer than a day," Hermione said. She had been pale and agitated ever since she had come back down from Ginny's room, and Harry gathered Luna's condition had been as shocking to her as it had been to him. "This morning we had to leave so quickly I had to choose between Crookshanks and my trunk..." She trailed off, biting her lower lip, which was trembling.

Harry exchanged a look with Ron.

"They're just books and clothes, I know," Hermione said, shaking her head so that her hair tumbled into her eyes. "It doesn't matter."

"Where is Crookshanks?" Ron asked, looking like he rather feared what the answer might be. When they had met her, Hermione had not been carrying the basket.

"Kitchens," Hermione said, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. "McGonagall took him for me."

Harry and Ron exchanged another look, this time in relief.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. She swiped furiously at her eyes again, obviously frustrated with herself. "I'm sorry, it's just that it feels like we haven't been safe since we left school. I hardly got home before they came for me."

Ginny patted Hermione's hand and looked helplessly at Ron and Harry. None of them seemed capable of speaking. Harry's mouth was bone dry.

"I didn't think they would ever let me go."

"That's... horrible," Ginny said, her voice breaking. "And we didn't even know."

"I was alone at first. It's awful how you lose track of time when you're alone and there's no way to tell time. After a while they put others in my cell with me. Neville was one of them."

"They let me go first," Neville said, picking up the story. "I didn't want to leave Hermione, but..."

"There was no choice about it," Hermione said firmly. "None at all."

"I couldn't stay with my Gran. Then, one night, Hermione and I ended up at the same place again, somehow, and we managed to stay together after that."

"It's..." Hermione paused, pursing her lips. "It's a sort of network of safe houses, and no one knows who else is part of it. When we had to leave one place we would go by portkey and then someone would come to take us to another place."

"Sometimes we stayed with Muggles," Neville said. "And I'm sure one night we were in the cellar of a shop in Hogsmeade."

"One time," Hermione continued, "the portkey took us to a forest, and it was two days before anyone came for us."

Hermione and Neville lapsed into silence, as if the memory of that incident made it too hard to continue.

"What about you, Harry?" Ron asked. "Is that what you've been doing, too? Moving from place to place?"

Harry hesitated, feeling that Lupin really should have given him better instructions. "Not exactly like that, but yes." And then, remembering, he looked at his watch. "I have to get back soon."

"Oh no," Ginny said, grabbing his hand. "You just got here. We have so much to tell you!"

"They'll let me come again," Harry said, trying to sound more sure of it than he felt. "Really soon, Ginny."

All four of them were looking at him glumly as he stood up from the table.

He couldn't even manage a smile. "I'll see you soon."

"See you, Harry," Hermione said softly. "Be careful."

"Stay safe, Harry," Neville echoed.

"Bye, Harry."

"Ask if you can come stay with us," Ron said, setting his jaw stubbornly. "I still say it's safer here than anywhere else."

"I'll try, Ron," Harry said. "Take care of yourselves."

He said his good-byes to the rest of the Weasleys. None of them tried to talk him into staying longer. Mr. Weasley let him out into the corridor and walked with him as far as the main staircase.

"Be careful, Harry," he said, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Do what you're told. Keep your wits about you, and your head down."

"I will."

And then, with Mr. Weasley watching over him with his wand still drawn and held at the ready, Harry started the long walk back to Lupin's office.

He got there with a few minutes to spare.

Everything was exactly as he had left it. He changed his clothes, this time folding what he took off. The Muggle wristwatch and his glasses he laid on top of the pile of clothes.

He stopped and frowned. With his glasses off, the room should have been far blurrier than it was.

Quickly, he reached for the potion in the bronze goblet, but it was too late. The creepy feeling of his skin stretching and warping over his flesh was already coming over him.

After a few uncomfortable moments it was over.

He looked down at the still full goblet. Shrugging, he emptied it into a pot of wilted plants, where the parched dirt sucked up the liquid quickly.

He took one last look around to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Then, bracing himself for whatever he might have to face when he got back to the dungeons, he left Lupin's office.


	16. Chapter 16

Harry made it back to the dungeons just in time to see McGonagall disappear into Snape's office and the door swing shut behind her. He didn't particularly want to see Snape just then, so he walked past the closed door without stopping. Anyway, there was a silencing charm up.

What he wanted was to speak with Lupin, but he didn't have the password to Snape's quarters.

Harry stopped uncertainly in front of the door. If he knocked, who would open it? Lupin needed to rest; though he had looked somewhat better after a long rest, Snape had been adamant that Lupin remain in bed.

It was a good thing he lingered in the corridor, because just as he was about to give up and start walking to his own room, the door was pulled open a crack.

A blond head stuck out, looking cautiously to the left, where Harry wasn't, and then to the right.

Malfoy jumped, a strangled yelp escaping. He would have slammed the door shut in Harry's face, but Harry was quicker.

"Hang on -" Harry struggled briefly with the door, but Malfoy, in his weakened condition, was no match for him. "What are you doing?"

Malfoy took several steps back. His eyes darted around the room as though he were looking for a route of escape.

"I was just coming to check on Professor Lupin," Harry said. He didn't so much want to make Malfoy feel better, but he figured he should defuse the situation before Malfoy did anything stupid. "What are you so jumpy about?"

Malfoy glared at him. "Nothing. I was waiting for Professor Snape." He crossed his arms over his chest. "That's all."

"All right," Harry said, shrugging. Malfoy was lying. It was obvious. But whatever Malfoy was up to, Harry wasn't going to leap in the middle of it. He had too many other problems. "I think Dad is in his office. I think you should just wait here."

Malfoy twitched. It was almost a shudder.

Harry moved around him slowly, not sure what to expect. Lupin was asleep on the divan - Harry could plainly see his chest rising evenly, and nothing had been disturbed - but he didn't trust Malfoy.

"Is that woman going to be back?" Malfoy asked just as Harry sat down next to Lupin. "That awful Weasley woman, I mean?"

Harry was glad he was looking down at Lupin, his face turned away from Malfoy, because he couldn't have controlled his scowl. He kept his face averted, trying to get a hold of himself.

"Do you mean Mrs. Weasley?" Harry was impressed that his voice was so even. "I don't know. She might check on Professor Lupin again, if Dad is busy."

"Is Hogwarts being used by the Order of the Phoenix? Do you know?"

Harry slowly turned to look Malfoy over.

Malfoy looked scared; his eyes were darting around the room, mostly landing on Lupin more than anywhere else.

"Do you _know_?"

"The Order of the Phoenix?" Harry repeated slowly. "Why?"

"Because - !" Malfoy took a step backwards, toward the door. "Because I'm not safe here if _they_ are here. That's why."

Harry felt a bit blank for a moment. He opened his mouth without knowing what to say, then closed it.

"_Well_? Are they here or not?"

"Yeah," Harry said, though for some reason he felt no enjoyment when Malfoy's already ashen face paled even more. Still, he just couldn't stop himself. "But didn't you know? My dad is in the Order, too."

He immediately wished he hadn't said it. The look on Malfoy's face was awful.

"You are safe here, though," Harry started, feeling now that he should try to fix things, even if this _was_ Malfoy. "I know my dad is your legal guardian, because Fudge was here and he said so."

Malfoy jumped at the mention of Fudge. Harry thought he would collapse, but Malfoy stayed on his feet, just breathing hard.

Harry felt terrible. Why had he said anything about _Fudge_, of all things? He had the uncomfortable feeling that if Lupin had been awake, he would have been giving Harry a very disapproving look.

He said nothing, though. He had no idea what to say to calm Malfoy down.

But Malfoy had forgotten him. Footsteps were coming closer to the door and Malfoy was slowly backing away from it.

"Maybe you should go back to bed," Harry suggested, swallowing. It occurred to him suddenly that Snape would not be very happy with him, either. "You don't look well enough to be up."

Malfoy might have heard him, or maybe just got the same idea, because he took off for the bedroom.

Harry sighed and waited for Snape to come in.

"What is going on here?" Snape demanded, stopping in the doorway. He pushed the door shut and warded it. "How did you get in?"

Harry made a motion toward the bedroom.

Snape frowned, then flicked his wand toward the door, which glowed for a moment. "Tell me what happened."

"I was going to my room when Malfoy stuck his head out. I think he was trying to escape."

Snape frowned again, but didn't interrupt.

"I had to force my way in here. He tried to slam the door in my face when he saw me. He was a bit crazed... he kept going on about the Order and not being safe here."

"And?"

Harry sighed. Snape always seemed to know when he wasn't getting the whole story.

"I told him you were in the Order, and he ran back to bed. That's all, really... except I may have mentioned Fudge being here." Harry dropped his gaze to the floor. "I didn't mean to, though."

Snape was silent for a long time. Long enough that Harry got tired of looking at the floor and looked up at him.

"Like it or not, Potter," Snape said quietly, "Draco is here to stay." His eyes glinted dangerously, belying his tone. "You will be in the same House come September. It is not in your interest to make an enemy of him."

"I wasn't trying to," Harry said, irritated by the reminder of his impending sorting into Slytherin. "It just sort of came out. I wasn't trying to make things worse for him."

Snape shook his head slowly. If Snape had been Lupin, Harry didn't doubt he would be giving Harry a look of disappointment. But it was Snape, and Snape just looked at him with great distaste.

"The problem with you, Potter, is that selfishness comes so naturally you hardly recognize it for what it is."

Harry saw red.

He was _not_ selfish!

"Yes," Snape jeered, though Harry had not yet even opened his mouth to protest. "No doubt you're nursing indignation that your summer was cut short and you had a few unpleasant days. Why would the great Harry Potter care if others might have had a worse time? Surely anyone else's suffering is nothing -"

"That's enough, Severus."

Harry's mouth snapped closed over a retort and his eyes snapped to Lupin.

Lupin pulled himself up into a sitting position. "I know nerves are taut right now, but this is helping no one. Severus, why don't you check on Draco? It sounds like he's scared and confused. I will deal with Harry."

Harry shifted his gaze off Lupin, scowling. He could hear Snape, who had not answered Lupin, walking across the room, but he didn't look at Snape, either, in case the sight of the git set his anger loose again. He was still boiling inside.

"Well," Lupin said quietly, "this is a pleasant way to wake up."

Harry hated how Lupin could make his voice drip with disappointment.

"Look at me, Harry."

Reluctantly, Harry did so.

Lupin studied him for a few moments before speaking. Harry tried not to squirm.

"He should not have taken his frustrations out on you."

Harry swallowed, not letting that bit of validation feel too good. He knew that wasn't all Lupin had to say.

"Just like you should not have taken yours out on Draco. I take it you learned some harsh facts tonight?"

Harry nodded.

Lupin was silent for a long time. Harry went back to studying the floor.

"Lines are blurring, Harry," Lupin said finally. "That is how it should be, if we are to put our society back together. If we dwell on the past, instead of pulling together, the war will never truly end. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded again, but he didn't. Not really.

"You know what was done to your friends. I'm sure Hermione had time to tell you at least something."

"We only had a few minutes," Harry said, his voice coming out slightly choked. "But, yeah."

"Do you think, Harry, that my heart aches any less for children who have suffered, if they were not part of your circle of friends?"

Harry shook his head, his eyes flying up to meet Lupin's.

But Lupin didn't give him a chance to defend himself.

"Do you think Draco or Vincent and Gregory deserved what happened any more than Luna, Hermione, Neville, or any other of your friends who have suffered at the hands of the Ministry these past weeks? Do you think it's somehow different, because their families supported Voldemort? Or because they were in Slytherin? Not being friendly to you is not a war crime."

Harry, finally, could not stand it any longer. "Look! I don't know what you think you're saying this for! I don't think any of that, all right! I don't think _any_ of that!"

He jumped up, and if Lupin hadn't grabbed his arm he might have escaped Snape's quarters and Lupin's horrible accusations.

"I'm not saying this to hurt you, Harry. This has very little to do with whatever you might have said to Draco."

"I didn't - !" Harry sputtered. "Snape didn't even let me talk! I _told_ Malfoy he was safe here. I _tried_ to keep him from running out of here, like he was going to do. I never said he deserved anything!"

"Harry..."

Harry tried to free himself from Lupin's grasp, but Lupin's grip was immovable. Finally, he gave up.

"I know you want to think there was a right side and a wrong side," Lupin said, pulling Harry slightly so that he had no choice but to sit down again. "And that the line is drawn right here at Hogwarts. It's a lesson I didn't fully learn myself until I found out Sirius was innocent."

Harry made another helpless jerk on his trapped arm, but Lupin still wouldn't let him go.

"Sirius, with his Slytherin family and Death Eater brother and cousins, was all too easy to blame."

"Let me guess," Harry said resignedly. "Now you're going to tell me it's our choices that matter. Don't worry, Dumbledore gave me that speech already."

"In that case I'll skip it."

They were silent for a few minutes. Harry didn't try to get his arm out of Lupin's grasp, and Lupin didn't loosen his hold, which told Harry they weren't done yet.

"If you think you can keep your temper, I will tell you something I think will help in the long run."

Harry drew in a breath and nodded.

"Good enough," Lupin said. "All right then, two things. Think of them as two sides of the same coin. First, you must try to let go of your feelings towards Draco. I know we've spoken about this before, but it bears repeating. There is no good that would come from making enemies in your own House. You don't want to isolate yourself."

Harry nodded, but only because he thought it was expected of him. They had talked about it before; he remembered Lupin's calm assertion that yes, he could make new friends in Slytherin if he needed to.

"The other thing, if you're ready?"

Harry nodded again.

"As Hadrian you might have to open yourself to new friendships, but even as Harry you may find yourself faced with the same choices."

Harry stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"I suspect that some of your friends might be ready to move past their old grudges and dislikes."

Harry frowned.

"Friendship is not a zero-sum game, Harry."

"What does that mean?"

Lupin smiled slightly. "In this case, it means that new friendships take nothing away from existing ones. You have many true friends, and that is a powerful gift to be cherished and protected, but you must not confuse the circle of friendship for an impenetrable wall."

"I don't," Harry said, irritated with Lupin again. Figures all that fancy talk would be just another way to insult him. "I make new friends all the time."

"Yes, the D.A.," Lupin said, giving him a placating smile, probably to remind him of his promise not to lose his temper. "That was a brilliant thing, Harry. You made incredible gains last year. It is no small accomplishment to have united three Houses to a common cause, not to mention that many students developed skills by leaps and bounds, cemented old friendships and secured new ones, and learned to stand up for what they believe in. All of those things were so important."

"Yeah, well," Harry said bitterly, "we're paying for it now, aren't we?"

Lupin shifted his grip from Harry's arm to his hand, and gave it a comforting squeeze. "We've talked about this, Harry."

Harry swallowed. "I know. I still wish -"

He didn't get to tell Lupin that he wished the list of D.A. members hadn't gotten out, because at that moment Snape swept out of the bedroom, shutting the door silently behind himself and warding it.

Harry tried one more time to extricate himself from Lupin's grasp.

"How is Draco, Severus?"

"I gave him a sleeping draught," Snape said. He walked over to a cabinet and replaced a bottle he had been carrying. "He will sleep until morning."

Was it Harry's imagination, or did Snape keep his back to them for just a few moments too long?

When Snape did turn around, his eyes went straight to Harry.

"I apologize for my assumption that you would jeopardize Draco's safety out of some petty belief that only you and your friends deserve the safety of this castle. I was too hasty in attributing malice to your actions."

That was one of the worst non-apologies Harry had ever been offered, but Lupin was giving his arm a not very gentle squeeze.

"I'm sorry if I said anything I shouldn't have," Harry said grudgingly. "I should have tried to make him feel better."

Snape nodded curtly and turned away, going over to the work area where several cauldrons still simmered over low flames.

Lupin let Harry go.

"I think I'll go to bed," Harry said to no one in particular.

"Good night, Harry," Lupin said. "Sleep well... it's been a long day."

Harry choked back a snort.

* * *

Harry overslept the next morning.

In fact, his first waking minutes were spent in confusion, wondering why there was a black hole between the moment he undressed and got into bed and the moment he opened his eyes again and looked at his watch.

Nightmare-free nights were really that rare for him.

He dressed and washed up quickly, though part of him wanted to give it up as a lost cause. He would be in just as much trouble for being an hour late as being a few minutes late, so what was the point?

The empty corridors did nothing for his nerves. Every time he came to a corner, his heart sped up. Each time no threat materialized, he felt a pang of anger that Hogwarts no longer felt safe to him. Fudge and his Aurors may not have left monitoring spells or devices, but they had tainted the castle by their mere presence.

Harry shook himself for thinking that way. It was stupid.

He walked into the Great Hall, already working on keeping his expression blank, because he could hear voices and the clatter of silverware against plates. Breakfast had clearly started without him.

"Good morning, Hadrian," Lupin said, looking up at him with just a hint of a raised eyebrow.

"Good morning, Professor," Harry said. He kept his voice neutral, like his expression. He hadn't quite decided if he was still angry with Lupin for siding with Snape _again_. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"Please don't make a habit of it," Lupin said, giving him a small smile. "We do like to have everyone present at meals."

Harry nodded, taking his seat. He let his eyes make a quick round of the table.

Snape was absent, but to Harry's surprise Malfoy was sitting at the other end of the table, next to Neville and Hermione.

Fred and George were looking at some bits of parchment, ignoring everyone. Mrs. Weasley was shooting annoyed glances their way, and Mr. Weasley was trying to distract her.

Harry idly thought that he still hadn't seen Percy Weasley. He only had Ron's word for it that Percy was at Hogwarts, too.

Harry's eyes stopped on Ron.

Ron didn't seem to have even noticed Harry's arrival. His eyes were riveted on the threesome seated across from him. He was shoveling food into his mouth like an automaton, not even blinking.

Harry followed Ron's gaze back to Malfoy, this time stopping longer than his earlier brief glance.

Hermione was holding Malfoy's hand.

Harry could feel Lupin's eyes on him. He forced himself to look away and reached for some eggs and hash, feeling a bit mechanical himself.

No one else spoke to him, after Lupin's greeting. Harry spent the time turning over everything Lupin had said to him the previous evening, trying to look at everything dispassionately and not let himself get wound up again.

"Hadrian?"

Lupin had coupled this with a non-too-gentle kick at Harry's foot, so Harry had no chance to blunder by not responding to his new name.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Your father asked me to remind you to bring your Transfiguration book to your morning study session."

"Oh," Harry said. A part of him had been hoping Snape would forget all about tutoring him. "Thanks."

He helped himself to more pumpkin juice.

As he finished eating, Harry tried to tune in to the conversations around him.

Lupin was listening intently to McGonagall, but all Harry could figure out was that the topic was security measures for the coming year. Once in a while, Bill Weasley added a word or two, but mostly he, too, simply listened.

Harry was too far away to hear anything his friends - or Malfoy - might be saying, but they didn't appear to be speaking. Even Ginny, who was sitting closer to Ron than to Hermione and Neville, was poking at her food silently.

Harry didn't want to be caught staring at Ron, though he did want to study Ron's expression closer. Ron wasn't glaring, exactly, but the look in his eyes was so intense that it would have passed for a glare to someone who didn't know him as well as Harry did. There was a crease between his eyebrows that told Harry Ron was trying to work out something that was a puzzle to him.

Lupin kicked him again.

"Hadrian?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"Would you mind walking with Draco as far as your father's office?"

Harry looked at Lupin, but Lupin's expression gave nothing away.

"All right."

"Good, that will save me a little time this morning. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Harry said grudgingly. Really, had refusing been an option?

Malfoy had finished his meal and now he was getting up; Harry watched him over the rim of his glass as he finished the last of his pumpkin juice.

Hermione said something to Malfoy, but Harry didn't catch it. Neville gave him a small smile... and Malfoy _returned_ it.

Nothing made any sense this morning.

He got up and started walking toward the Entrance Hall, barely waiting to see that Malfoy was following him.

They were alone in the dungeon corridor before Harry managed to convince himself to do it.

"Listen, Draco, I'm sorry about yesterday." He was surprised the words were coming out of his mouth in such an even tone. Malfoy's name felt funny in his mouth; he wasn't used to saying it. "I didn't mean to say the wrong thing."

"That's all right," Malfoy said. "Professor Snape says I was having a panic attack and wasn't rational."

"Oh."

"Hey, can we slow down a little?"

Harry looked at Malfoy. There was a sheen of sweat over Malfoy's face.

"Sure."

He slowed down, which let Malfoy catch up and take a place right at his side. Harry stole another sideways look at him. He did _not_ want Malfoy collapsing in the corridor when Harry was the only one with him. He didn't even want to know how Snape and Lupin would twist that.

"Are you all right?"

"Just tired," Malfoy said. His breath was a little wheezy. "Maybe I shouldn't have got up this morning, but I thought he - Lupin, I mean - was staying, and I didn't want - I mean -" Malfoy's eyes darted in Harry's direction. "You know about him, right?"

Harry looked at him blankly, not because he didn't know what Malfoy was on about, but because he had not been instructed on whether Hadrian knew of Lupin's condition. It was another one of those pesky details they hadn't thought of, just lying in wait to trip him up.

"Well," Malfoy said after a moment, shrugging, "never mind. He's not dangerous, I don't think."

"Of course he's not dangerous," Harry said without thinking. "I _like_ Lupin."

"You do?" Malfoy said, frowning at him. "I don't think he knows that."

"Why?" Harry demanded. What did Malfoy know about it?

"Just before you got there, they were all talking about you, and how difficult you've been since... since, well, you know. Professor Snape and Lupin."

Harry sputtered incoherently. The _nerve_ of Lupin! Giving the Weasleys more reasons to hate him, and without Harry even being there to defend himself!

"I probably shouldn't have told you."

They walked silently for a bit, Harry stewing in his anger.

"Hey -"

Harry froze, just barely catching himself from throwing Malfoy's hand off his shoulder.

"I just wondered..."

Harry's skin prickled uncomfortably where Malfoy was touching him. "What?"

"Is there anyone here who _isn't_ in the bloody Order of the Phoenix?"

Harry shook his head.

Malfoy sighed.

"What's your issue with the Order, anyway?"

Malfoy frowned at him. "I told you, didn't?"

Harry, who was getting tired of trying to keep straight what he was and wasn't supposed to know, decided to play dumb. "Told me what?"

"My parents are Death Eaters." Malfoy eyed him with another frown. "I did tell you that, didn't I? My family was on the wrong side of the war."

Harry nodded. He was just about to open his mouth to say something - just as soon as he could think of something that didn't sound too much like what he would have said if he hadn't been wearing the face of someone who had a former Death Eater for a father - when a door banged open in the corridor just ahead of them.

Snape came out of his office and fixed a very agitated look on the two of them.

Harry snapped his mouth shut quickly. He was not going to be accused of upsetting Malfoy again.

"Does it take a quarter hour to walk from the Great Hall to my office?"

_It does with Malfoy walking at the pace of a great-great-great-grandfather snail_, Harry thought. He was not going to be blamed for this, either. What he said out loud was, "Sorry, sir."

His voice echoed oddly. It took him a moment to realize that Malfoy had said the same thing at nearly the same time.

"Draco, come, let me show you your room. Hadrian, I see you don't have your Transfiguration book. Fetch it, and wait in my office."

Malfoy started to walk after Snape, but he snuck a look back at Harry and rolled his eyes.

Harry caught himself. He had been about to _grin_ at Malfoy.

Really, nothing made sense this morning.

* * *

Harry had never been particularly good in Transfiguration, but having Snape teach it was even worse than McGonagall's class.

"Do we need to go over basic wand movements again?" Snape threatened not ten minutes into their study session, when Harry's swish went a bit wide and swiped the matchbox off the table.

The matchbox was no closer to a box turtle when Harry picked it up off the floor than it had been when Snape had placed it in front of him.

"No, sir," Harry said, adjusting his hold on the wand. "This wand is just a bit longer than my old one."

Snape looked at the matchbox, then back at Harry. He huffed irritably. "Perhaps we should not have started with animal transfiguration."

Harry watched glumly as Snape took the matchbox away and placed a bit of straw in front of him. "Am I turning straw into gold, sir?"

Snape narrowed his eyes at him. "Do not be impudent, Potter. I am not in the mood."

Harry slumped a little in his seat.

"And sit up straight," Snape said at once, his lip curling into a sneer. "Perhaps I shall add manners and posture to the list of subjects you clearly need a refresher in."

Harry straightened his back, barely holding in a sneer of his own. Must Snape pick on every little thing he did?

"Now," Snape said, "let's see you turn this straw into a place mat. That should hardly be above first year level."

Harry remembered this lesson vaguely. In particular, he remembered being one of the last to produce something resembling McGonagall's example. He hadn't started to improve in Transfiguration until the end of his second year, and even after that he was never close to the head of the class.

He picked up his wand, which really did feel clumsy in his hand with its extra two inches, and concentrated on the swishing motion that was the base of most transfiguration spells.

The straw caught fire.

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry said as Snape put out the blaze and banished the wisps of smoke with an angry flick of his wand. "This wand doesn't like me."

"Do not blame this on the wand," Snape said, his teeth barred. "It is not the wand's fault that you failed to pay attention in five years' worth of classes."

Harry had to breathe out very slowly; he felt like he was going to explode, and exploding at Snape never lead to anything good.

A few minutes dragged by and Snape was staring at Harry silently, but Harry refused to raise his head until he had his temper somewhat under control.

"I suppose you are about to tell me you did your best in all of your classes," Snape said just as Harry thought he had won over himself.

Harry swallowed. He took a deep, steadying breath.

It really didn't help much.

"No, sir," he said. It was honest, at least. He had tried his best in the classes he thought mattered.

"I'm pleased you realize that, Potter." Snape's eyes were narrowed; he didn't seem at all placated by Harry's willingness to accept responsibility for his shortcomings. "The truth is, academically you are on the low side of mediocre, at best. In five years, I have yet to hear one of your teachers - one of your teachers who was unbiased - say you applied yourself in class."

Harry had never thought about it before, but he now supposed he had been the topic of discussion at staff meetings. Most likely far more than any other student. Which just wasn't right.

He knew which _biased_ teacher Snape meant; Lupin had always told him he had an aptitude for Defense, and Harry had certainly always tried his best, though in four years out of the five that class had also been one of the hardest to get anything useful out of.

"Your O.W.L. results place you near the bottom of your cohort. One would think you didn't open a book the entire year." Snape's mouth curled into a sneer again. "Too busy leading rebellions against the Ministry and bullishly sitting through detention after detention."

Harry looked down again, but he wasn't going to let it go this time without defending himself. "I don't think it's fair to go on about my O.W.L. results when I haven't seen them."

Snape let him sit in silence for a long time.

"You will get your results with everyone else," Snape finally said. "I will not make exceptions for you. Perhaps Lupin will."

Harry felt like slumping in his seat again, but didn't. If he asked Lupin for the O.W.L. results now, Snape would use that as more proof that Harry thought he was above everyone else.

Which just wasn't true.

"We shall start from the beginning," Snape said. "You cannot show up in a N.E.W.T.s level class knowing less than the average eleven year old."

Harry dared to look up at Snape. Did that mean he had scraped an 'Exceeds Expectations', the lowest grade that would allow him into McGonagall's class? He knew his average at the end of the year had been only an 'Acceptable'; McGonagall had told him so during career counseling.

Snape ignored the look. "For next time, read one third of your first year Transfiguration textbook -" Snape likewise ignored Harry's mouth falling open. "- and continue practicing wand control like I showed you."

With great reluctance, Harry nodded.

"You have your book?"

Harry looked down at the fifth year Transfiguration textbook he had brought with him. He held it up.

"I meant your first year book," Snape said impatiently.

"Yes, sir," Harry said. That book had been left to him, since there wasn't much to identify it as his, but he had not thought he would ever need to use it. "I have it."

"Then I will expect you to be ready the next time we meet. We will not have any further study sessions today."

Harry could feel a weight lifting off his shoulders at that announcement, and he knew it showed on his face.

"I expect you to keep out of the way, Potter," Snape warned in a dangerous tone. "This is not license to run all over the castle doing as you damn well please."

"I understand that," Harry said. "Is something going on?"

Snape glared at him. "Nothing is going on that concerns you. Stay out of the way."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, lowering his eyes again. He was certain he didn't look subdued and cooperative enough for Snape's taste.

"I doubt there will be regular meals today," Snape said. "You can eat in the kitchens. I assume you know how to get in?"

Harry nodded.

"I expect you to check on Draco and make sure he eats. He is staying in the Slytherin dorms and there is no password set."

Harry's mouth fell open, but he managed to shut it and didn't think Snape noticed. He nodded again, keeping his eyes down.

"In that case, you are dismissed."

Harry stood up quickly, but before he had made it to the door he thought of something and his steps slowed.

"What is it, Potter?" Snape asked irritably.

"Can I..." Harry had stopped, but didn't turn around. He didn't want to be looking at Snape. It was hard enough just to ask. "Can I see my friends today?"

Snape didn't answer him.

"I mean..." Harry said, after a minute or so had gone by. Snape, hadn't, after all, said no yet. "I know I saw them yesterday, but..."

"I suppose it might be arranged."

Harry was so surprised, his hand slipped off the door handle and he had to try again. "Thank you, sir."

"Do remember what I said," Snape called after him. "Stay out of the way."

"Yes, sir!" Harry called back. He was too happy to slow down, or to let Snape's warning ruin his mood again.

If the adults were up to something - Harry's mind had whirled through several possibilities, including McGonagall's cryptic message to Snape when she had brought Luna to Hogwarts - he almost didn't care now. He only thought about being with his friends, and having time to really find out what had been going on with them. The short hour he had spent with them the previous day had been mostly spent on hugging and the like. As good as it had been at the time, now he wished they'd had more time to exchange information, particularly after Hermione and Neville got there.

He got to his room and threw his Transfiguration book down on the desk. Rummaging in his trunk, he found his first year book and sat down with it.

As much as he hated to accept what Snape had said - personally he was sure it _was_ mostly the new wand's fault - it wouldn't actually hurt him to go over the spells. Maybe he would even get started on the second year book, since Snape was sure to want him to revise those spells, as well, and it wasn't exactly a hardship -

Harry paused with that thought, frowning.

He couldn't recall ever thinking about revising in quite those terms. Those were all things Hermione said to try to get him and Ron to agree to an extra studying session, weren't they? This had to be the way Hermione thought about schoolwork, and Harry had often heard her nagging voice in his head when he was skiving off studying. Why were the thoughts now coming in his own voice instead of hers?

Slightly uncomfortable now, Harry looked down at the book he was holding, and forced himself to concentrate.

* * *

His watch told him it was close to the lunch hour. Harry put down the Transfiguration textbook, sat up, and stretched.

He was supposed to make sure Malfoy ate, so he reckoned he should find out if lunch would be served in the Great Hall after all, or if he should drag Malfoy down to the Hogwarts kitchens with him. Maybe he could just bring Malfoy something -

A firm knock cut off his thoughts, and he hurried to open the door.

Snape walked in, barely sparing him a glance. "Shut the door, Hadrian, I wish to speak with you."

Harry pushed the door closed. He took his hands off just in time to miss the spell Snape fired at it.

"I should teach you some simple security spells," Snape said. "You could stand to be more careful about opening doors when you don't know who is on the other side."

Harry scowled slightly. It hadn't occurred to him not to open the door; he would just love to see what Snape would have said if he hadn't opened it immediately.

"Yes," Snape continued, "I will add it to our lessons."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, for lack of any other comment.

"As I told you earlier, you should get your lunch from the kitchens. When you go, take Draco with you."

Harry nodded. "I was just about to go find him, actually."

Snape reached into an inner pocket of his robes and removed a small bundle, which he unshrunk to its normal size and dropped on Harry's desk. Excitement washed over Harry when he recognized one of his old jumpers, as well as two familiar covered goblets.

"You can use the lunch hour to find out where your friends are, then you will take your potion and put on your Invisibility Cloak. I trust you can manage to leave and then return without being seen."

Harry nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."

"Of course you can," Snape said, his voice oily. "You have five years worth of experience sneaking out of bounds using that Cloak."

Harry said nothing. He was not going to lose this chance, and especially not over such a weak insult from Snape.

Apparently disappointed he could not get a rise out of Harry that way, Snape changed tactics.

"Have you begun studying, or have you been moping here all morning?"

Mutely, Harry picked up his first year Transfiguration textbook and held it up so Snape could see it. He even let it flop open so Snape could see he had made notes in the margins.

"Then you shall have no excuses when we meet tomorrow," Snape said smoothly. "Do practice your wand control before then. I do not wish to hear any more of your incompetence being blamed on the wand."

Harry almost did retort this time, but caught himself. "Yes, sir."

"Do remember what I said. It still stands. Stay out of the way."

Snape turned to go, but Harry stopped him.

"Sir? It would be easier to stay out of the way if I knew where everyone was."

Snape looked at him with narrowed eyes, letting some moments pass before answering. "Very well, Potter. The adults are going over important matters in the staff lounge, and we _shall not_ be disturbed except in cases of absolute emergency."

Harry nodded. He was finding that nodding worked well with Snape, over all; it gave him a moment to get a hold of himself before trusting whatever might come out of his mouth. "Yes, sir."

Snape pulled open the door and walked out without another word.

Harry took some deep breaths.

He was about to go from dealing with Snape to dealing with Malfoy, and he did _not_ want to be accused later of taking his frustrations out on Malfoy.

Now that he had an hour with his friends to look forward to, though, a little time in Malfoy's company felt like nothing he couldn't handle.

He looked over the things Snape had brought. His clothes were there, as well as the Muggle wristwatch and the two goblets. He carefully moved everything to the empty bottom drawer of his wardrobe; he had not bothered to unpack all of his things yet.

He considered locking the drawer. He did know some good locking charms, despite what Snape had said.

But his wand really wasn't that cooperative, and he didn't want to risk damaging anything.

He checked that his Cloak was still safe where he had put it, or, rather, where he had stuffed it under his mattress. It wasn't a particularly imaginative hiding place, and he promised himself to find a better one.

All was ready, or as ready as he could get it.

He washed up, scowled at his still unfamiliar reflection, and left his room.

Snape hadn't told him how to get to the Slytherin common room from where he was, so he had to double back to Snape's office so he could follow a familiar route. He really hated getting lost in the cavernous, cold dungeon corridors.

He hadn't been anywhere near the Slytherin common room since his second year. For a few moments, as he paused uncertainly in front of a section of damp wall that he thought was the right one, he wondered how Snape had known he wouldn't need directions. Or had it simply slipped Snape's mind?

"Er -" It suddenly occurred to him that he did not know how to get the hidden door to open if there was no password. "Er... I wish to get into the Slytherin common room, please."

He felt very foolish when nothing happened.

"Pure-blood?" That had been the password when he and Ron had been under the Polyjuice Potion as Crabbe and Goyle.

Maybe he wasn't even in the right place.

Or, maybe he needed to push something or tap along the wall with his wand. That was how the cellar at Grimmauld Place worked.

Reluctantly, Harry reached out his hand and ran it over the rough stone wall. "Open up?"

The wall jerked under his hand. He quickly stepped back as a section of wall slid to the side, revealing a gaping hole and flooding the corridor around him with greenish light.

Harry stepped through the opening. He turned and eyed the doorway warily, but it did not close behind him like he was afraid it might.

Harry took a slow look around.

The common room didn't look much different from the last time he had seen it. Fewer lamps were lit, and it was devoid of the usual signs of being lived in, but it was still a cold, claustrophobic place. The low ceiling and the slightly swaying lamps hanging from shiny silver chains made the shadows elongated and wavery. Harry shivered.

"Hello?" he called. He cleared his throat. His voice had come out rather pathetic. "Hello? Anyone here?"

"Yes?"

Harry whirled around. Malfoy was standing in a doorway, frowning at him.

"Er... it's lunch time. My dad said to take you to the kitchens with me."

"Oh," Malfoy said. He didn't move.

"So, come on," Harry said. "I'm rather hungry."

"All right," Malfoy said. "Let me get my cloak."

Harry spent the next few minutes looking around some more. He figured he might as well, since there was every chance he would end up living there when the school year started.

"I'm ready."

Harry looked up; he had been trying to read the inscription on a medal encased in green-tinted glass, which was sitting on the mantle. He wondered why it wasn't in the trophy case along with all the others.

"Professor Snape put that there last year," Malfoy said. "It let him communicate with us without having to come down."

"Oh," Harry said. He eyed the medal suspiciously. Could Snape have copied the idea from the charmed galleons used by the D.A.? If so, he had to have known about the D.A. earlier than Harry had thought.

"Well?" Malfoy said impatiently. "Are we going?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "Sure."

But he didn't make the first move, and neither did Malfoy. It was rather awkward.

"Er... do you like being in Slytherin?" Harry asked, to fill the stupid silence. "I think I might be. My dad was, when he was in school. He told me."

Malfoy gave him an odd look. "About that..." he trailed off, pursing his lips. "Yes, I like it. Slytherin is a noble House. We're smart as Ravenclaws and nearly as loyal as Hufflepuffs, but not so foolish as Gryffindors. We're cunning and ambitious... what's not to like?"

Harry felt a 'but' coming on, and he was almost dying to hear what Malfoy had to say against Slytherin. "But...?" he prompted.

Malfoy visibly swallowed. "But, just to warn you, if you get any chance at all, pick another House."

Harry stared at him. Malfoy was trying to give him advice for his own good? "Why?"

"Because... because Slytherin is hated by nearly the entire school, that's why, and anyway, hardly anyone is coming back." Malfoy paused. "We have this ridiculous reputation for turning out Dark wizards." Malfoy paused again. "Or siding with Dark wizards. Which is just as bad, I reckon."

"Oh," Harry said. He was rather shocked Malfoy was saying this.

"It'll be worse this year," Malfoy continued. "If they didn't like us before, they'll hate us now that their side's won."

"_Their_ side?" Harry asked, just catching himself in time to change his tone to something more neutral. "But _you_ didn't support the... the..." He swallowed and finished, "_Voldemort_?"

Malfoy flinched.

"Sorry," Harry said. "My mum told me to use his proper name."

"Professor Snape won't like it," Malfoy muttered. Louder, he said, "And, no, I didn't, but what does it matter when my family did?"

"Of course it matters."

Malfoy looked at him for a moment and then laughed bitterly. "Let me guess. Our choices make us who we are? Did you get that speech from someone, too?"

Harry stared at him.

"Never mind," Malfoy said, waving his arm dismissively. "Never mind. You'll see if you get in Slytherin. You might even see before then. Those Weasleys are all Gryffindors and they won't waste time showing you how things are around here."

Harry swallowed again. Those were his friends Malfoy was maligning, but he couldn't exactly argue, what with his own recent run-ins with Ron and the twins.

"Come on," Malfoy said. "I don't know why we're still standing here."

They left the Slytherin common room; Harry watched carefully to see what Malfoy did to close the common room doorway.

"The kitchens are this way," Malfoy said. "I assume that's why Professor Snape wanted us to go together?"

"What?"

"Because you don't know your way around yet."

"Oh," Harry said. He wished these things wouldn't be sprung on him. "No, I... I know where the kitchens are."

"Let's take a shortcut, then. I don't much feel like walking all the way back to the Entrance Hall."

Harry followed Malfoy down a side corridor, thinking that just a few weeks ago he would never have followed Malfoy anywhere in the dungeons without having his wand out and ready.

Malfoy pushed aside a tapestry and Harry found himself staring at the large painting of fruit that concealed the doorway to the kitchens. He watched as Malfoy tickled the pear and pulled the door open.

Maybe he shouldn't have been so surprised - after all, he couldn't have been the only one instructed to take his lunch in the kitchens - but as he walked in Harry experienced a nasty shock.

Seated at one of the long, narrow tables were Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Neville, and Luna. Hermione and Ginny had Luna between them; Hermione was coaxing her to eat.

Ron glared at the two newcomers, but no one said anything.

Malfoy pulled at Harry's sleeve. They veered off to the side, toward the shelves where the food was stored.

Harry had expected house-elves to come running. Now he heard Ron's voice inside his head, telling him that most house-elves had left Hogwarts.

_Dobby_.

Harry took another frantic look around the kitchens. The enormous space looked so different without the hundreds of elves hard at work preparing food.

Would Dobby have left? No, Dobby wouldn't have abandoned Hogwarts. Not by choice, but what if...?

What if Dobby, like Kreacher, had been forcibly relocated by the Office of House-Elf Relocation? Lupin had said Kreacher hadn't been bound to Grimmauld Place. Had Dobby been bound to Hogwarts? No, Harry didn't think he had been.

"What are you looking for?" Malfoy asked curiously.

"Er... nothing," Harry said quickly. "Big place, that's all. I didn't get a chance to look around when I was here before."

Malfoy nodded. "We're right under the Great Hall now, and the kitchens are the same size. Those tables are in the same place the House tables usually are - of course right now there aren't House tables."

"Oh," Harry said.

"Usually there are house-elves working here," Malfoy said. "But I think most of them are gone. Well, come on, help yourself to what you want."

In spite of the visible lack of house-elves, there was plenty of food, and much of it looked freshly prepared. Harry helped himself to bread rolls, cold cuts, mash and gravy, and a tall glass of pumpkin juice from one of the large pitchers. Balancing his overloaded plate, he followed Malfoy over to one of the tables.

"You could sit with us," Hermione called.

Harry looked over at her. She was biting her lip.

Harry looked at Malfoy, who shrugged. "You want to?"

"All right," Harry said, picking up his plate again.

"What did you do that for?" Ron hissed at Hermione, not bothering to be quiet about it.

"Oh, shush, Ron."

Harry and Malfoy hadn't yet taken more than two steps toward the other table.

Ron stood up, sending an ugly look their way. "Come on, Ginny, we're leaving."

Ginny fixed her brother with a calm, stubborn look. "You can be an arse if you want to, Ron, but you're on your own."

Ron threw down his napkin, knocking bits of food off his half-empty plate. Without another word, he stalked out of the kitchens.

Harry looked at Hermione, Ginny, and Neville uncertainly; Luna was gazing blankly off to the side. "Er... sorry about that. Maybe -"

"Nonsense!" Hermione said, her voice slightly shrill. "Come on. It's fine. He's just going to have to get over it."

Harry looked at Malfoy, who gave him a very uncomfortable sort of shrug. They sat down opposite from the other four.

"I'm Hermione," Hermione said, extending her hand to Harry. "I'm going to be a sixth year. And you?"

"Hadrian," Harry said, shaking her hand.

With a swiftness that gave Harry no time to react, Hermione grasped his hand and pulled it toward her, turning it so the back of his hand was up.

She, along with Ginny and Neville, stared at the spot where Harry had the words, 'I must not tell lies', carved into his flesh by the blood quill.

Harry swallowed, gently pulling his hand out of Hermione's now limp grasp. "Er - ?"

Hermione blushed crimson. "Sorry!"

The stain of color on her cheeks couldn't hide her obvious disappointment.

Harry felt the same. He almost wished the scar had still been there; then all of this would be over. He felt terrible for Hermione. His friend really was brilliant, and he hated that his disguise was going to fool her... and that he had to.

There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

"I'm Neville Longbottom," Neville said. He cleared his throat. "This is Luna."

Harry looked from Neville to Luna. Luna's eyes were so completely blank that he couldn't help swallowing hard again.

"She's not very well right now," Neville continued. "But we're trying to make things as normal as possible for her and not treat her like... like..."

"We're trying to treat her like she can hear and understand everything," Hermione said, coming to Neville's rescue. "For all we know, she can."

Ginny nodded emphatically at that. "I'm sure she can. She just needs time. I didn't feel much like talking myself, after I found out about my eye."

Harry felt sick. He had taken a bite of sausage and now he couldn't swallow it; he just knew it wouldn't go down.

He snuck a look at Malfoy.

Malfoy's lips were a thin line and he was staring resolutely down at the table.

There was another silence.

"So... Hadrian?"

Harry looked up and saw that Hermione was looking him over critically. "Yeah?"

"Oh, nothing," Hermione said. She bit her lip. "We're all just surprised Professor Snape has a son."

Harry couldn't help scowling.

Malfoy looked up and was trying to send Hermione some sort of signal, probably to warn her off the subject.

"I... I didn't know myself, really," Harry said, stabbing his fork into more sausage. He just hoped he wasn't going to have to tell them much. Snape had made him memorize everything he was supposed to know about Hadrian, but Harry felt the story had a lot of gaping holes.

"Sorry," Hermione said. "That must have been hard."

Harry nodded and didn't look up from his plate.

"Did you attend some other school?"

"No," Harry said. "I was taught at home."

"That's... that's interesting," Hermione said. "Right, Neville?"

"What? Oh, yes." Neville gave Harry an odd look. "That's sort of rare nowadays, isn't it?"

Harry shrugged.

Malfoy elbowed him in the ribs. "You are magical, aren't you?"

"What?" Harry demanded, looking at Malfoy indignantly. "Of course I am."

Malfoy smirked at him. "Sorry, just wanted to get a bit of a reaction out of you."

Harry scowled again. "I'm sure I'll be behind everyone. Dad is having me revise this summer so I won't fail out of all my classes in fall."

Hermione made a sympathetic clucking noise. "I thought I would be behind when I started here. Because I'm Muggleborn."

Harry looked at her. She was biting her lip nervously again, waiting for his reaction.

"My grandparents were Muggles," Harry said.

It suddenly occurred to him that it was actually true; Lily's parents, his grandparents, had been Muggles. He didn't know why he had not thought of it in all the times Snape had made him recite his family history. Had Snape purposely made Hadrian's history similar to Harry's? And did that mean Hadrian Snape really _didn't_ exist?

Malfoy was giving him a slightly puzzled look. No doubt he had realized this meant Harry's mother had been Muggleborn, and what that meant about Snape, and no doubt it didn't quite sit well with him.

Hermione smiled at Harry, relaxing. "Don't worry, you'll like classes here. We have some very good teachers -"

"Umbridge," Neville put in, grimacing.

"Lockhart," Ginny said, wrinkling her nose.

"Crouch," Malfoy said, surprising Harry by not naming Mad-Eye Moody.

"Quirrell," Hermione said, another smile tugging at her lips. "Oh, all right, maybe some were not so good."

Harry tried to keep his expression blank.

"Those are all teachers who are gone now," Malfoy told him. "Oddly enough, they all taught Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Isn't that what Lupin teaches?" Harry asked, trying to sound confused.

"He only taught one year," Hermione said. "We're all so glad he's coming back."

Harry nodded, ducking his head and taking a bite of his food.

He could tell, even with his head down, that looks were being exchanged.

"So," he said, trying to head off anything more about Lupin, "are you all going to be in my year?"

"No," Ginny said, "Luna and I are a year below."

"Are you all Gryffindors?"

"All of us except Luna - she's a Ravenclaw."

Harry took another bite of his food. Even though it wasn't the same at all, sitting there with his friends was nice, and he hadn't been expecting that it would be possible. He hated to ruin it.

"My dad is Head of Slytherin," Harry said, "so I suppose I will be in Slytherin, too."

"You don't know that," Hermione said, looking slightly uncomfortable. "There's a process -"

"- There's a Sorting Hat," Neville said, probably to head off a long speech from Hermione. "You put it on and decides which House you'll be in."

"Hmm," Harry said. "Dad said I'm likely to be in Slytherin, anyway."

There was quite a long silence.

"Is it true Gryffindors and Slytherins can't be friends?" Harry asked. It was hard to ask, and he was aware of Malfoy shifting uncomfortably next to him.

Hermione and Neville looked at each other, like neither one could decide on an answer.

It was Ginny who spoke.

"It's been true."

"But it doesn't have to be true this year," Hermione said quickly.

"Oh, come on," Malfoy cut in derisively. "You saw -"

"Leave my brother out of it, if you please," Ginny said, her tone reminding Harry strongly of McGonagall.

"Ron doesn't take well to change," Hermione added, sounding deflated. She must have forgotten that Ron had stormed out at the mere idea of sharing a table with Hadrian and Malfoy.

It went downhill from there.

"I think we should find Ron," Hermione said with a sigh. "Fred and George are up to something and I don't want him getting mixed up in it."

Neville nodded in agreement.

"It was nice to meet you, Hadrian," Hermione said, giving him a small smile. "I'm sure we'll see a lot of each other this summer."

"Sure," Harry said without much enthusiasm. Ron would get Hermione on his side, he was sure of it. The worst of it was that Harry couldn't even blame Ron for it. Would _he_ have wanted Hermione to become friendly with Hadrian and Malfoy? Not if he were being honest.

Ginny and Neville each took one of Luna's hands, helping her to stand. Luna moved like a puppet whose strings were being pulled.

Harry sighed as his friends walked out, leaving him alone with Malfoy.

"I'm finished, are you?" Malfoy said.

"Sure," Harry repeated glumly. "I think I'll just take some pumpkin juice back to my room."

"Good thinking," Malfoy said, gathering up a few bread rolls and biscuits he hadn't eaten. "I'm going to do that, too. Listen, do you want to study together? There's a small library in the common room."

Harry shook his head, glad he had an excuse. "My dad is having me look over first year textbooks. Thanks, but I'd rather be alone."

"That bad, is it?" Malfoy said, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, _first_ year? That's what, _Wingardium Leviosa_! ?"

Malfoy waved his wand in a lazy, easy way, and Harry's glass of pumpkin juice rose out of reach.

Harry scowled at him. "That's Charms. I'm doing Transfiguration."

Only because Snape hadn't got to Charms yet.

Malfoy replaced the glass, smirking. "One of my best subjects."

"Well, come on," Harry said, shaking his head, "I need to get back and start studying, or else I'll only make it half through the second year books by the time classes start."

He really couldn't believe he was joking with Malfoy.

But then, not much had made sense that morning.

* * *

Harry walked Malfoy back as far as the Slytherin common room, then went back to his own room.

He checked on the contents of the wardrobe's bottom drawer, but he didn't do as Snape had instructed. Still as Hadrian, he left his room again and headed for the Entrance Hall.

As luck would have it, he was lost again. Either his sense of direction was completely malfunctioning, or either Bathsheba the Beady-eyed or William the Wronged simply didn't stay _put_.

Up ahead as he turned a corner was the Slytherin common room's wide open doorway; somehow Harry had made a wide circle.

He stopped, not wanting to walk past and attract Malfoy's attention. Malfoy would probably think he had changed his mind about studying together, and he was _not_ going to spend his afternoon in Malfoy's company. There was only so much he could handle, and he had already spent nearly two hours with Malfoy. Plenty for one day, in his opinion.

He was grateful that he had stopped, because the next moment he needed to take a quick step backwards, back into the corridor he had just come from, to avoid being seen.

Coming out of the Slytherin common room was Hermione, who had her hand on Malfoy's arm. Malfoy looked reluctant, but he was letting her drag him along.

"I don't care - honestly, Ron can work things out for himself."

"Yeah," Malfoy said, scowling at the back of her head, "except he's got his whole family here, and they already hate me plenty."

"Well, then! What does it matter?"

Malfoy opened his mouth, but apparently thought better of arguing with her.

Cautiously, Harry followed them, staying well back and in the shadows.

"Where are you dragging me, anyway?" Malfoy complained resignedly. "Or do I not get to know?"

"There's a little alcove up ahead," Hermione said. "We found it when Neville turned into the wrong corridor coming down for lunch."

Harry crept up to the corner where Malfoy and Hermione had disappeared. His heart was beating in his throat, but of course now that he was following them, there was no turning back.

A strange sight met his eyes.

It was the same place where he had stopped to rest the morning he got lost and Peeves and the Bloody Baron had scared him dizzy. Ginny and Neville, with Luna between them, were already seated on the rough steps of the unfinished staircase, and Hermione was dragging Malfoy over to them. Malfoy had stopped resisting by then, and Hermione let him go as soon as they reached the steps.

Malfoy took off his cloak and spread it over the bottom step. To Harry's surprise, he didn't sit down, but motioned to Neville and Ginny.

"Put her here, she shouldn't be sitting on the cold stone."

Something was definitely very, very wrong.

Harry quickly looked around for a place to hide.

Seeing a column in a corner only an arm's length away, with a nice shadowy gap behind it, he stepped sideways along the wall, squeezing into the narrow space.

The only trouble was, there was already someone there.


	17. Chapter 17

Ron glared murderously at Harry. Even in the deep shadows, Harry could see Ron's face getting redder and redder, his nostrils flaring, his teeth grinding as his lips curled back from the gums.

There was an extendable ear dangling from Ron's pocket; Ron had come prepared to snoop on the others, just as Harry had.

That had to be the reason why Ron didn't shove him or curse him or start to yell. Harry, who knew Ron's every mood and expression so well, could see that Ron was making a monumental effort not to explode. He was silently gulping air; his fury was almost choking him.

"Thank you."

Harry didn't take his eyes off Ron, but he allowed himself to divide his attention. Hermione was speaking.

"I think I can put a warming charm on the stone, too."

"Don't," said Neville. "You know Snape said not to exert yourself."

"It's fine - it's just a little spell."

"_I_ can do it. Honestly, you two, stop ignoring me - I feel useless enough."

"Oh, Ginny, I -"

"Never mind, just put it away."

There was a barely audible sizzling sound that Harry recognized as a heating charm, and then the sound of people shuffling around.

"There," Ginny said. "My charms still wear off early, but I can just recast it then. I still think this is an odd place to be meeting. What if that boy decides to skive off studying after all?"

A droplet of spittle glistened in the corner of Ron's mouth. Ron swiped at his lip with the back of his hand, looking like he would rather be using his fist on Harry's face instead.

"Never mind him," Hermione said. "We'd already brought Luna down and it makes no sense for Draco to have to come upstairs. I just wish you'd found Ron, Ginny. If he would just stand still a moment and let me _explain_ -"

"But you _haven't_ explained!" Ginny's voice rose a notch. "You haven't explained anything, Hermione. I don't know what's happening - I'm just following along because you're my friends and I can't think to do anything else!"

A fuming huff escaped Ron's nose.

"I _am_ sorry," Hermione said pleadingly. "Please, Ginny, just hold on a bit. I did say you didn't have to come this time."

"No. No, I won't leave Luna when I don't even know what's happening! Mum said -"

"Oh!"

Hermione's sudden exclamation was the last sound Harry heard. There was such a complete, lengthy silence, that even Ron's glare had time to settle into a glower.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look. By some bizarre mutual agreement, they dragged their eyes off each other and peered out from behind the column.

As far as Harry could tell, the five people sitting on the steps had been petrified mid-step.

Hermione's mouth was still open in a little 'O' of surprise, her hand stopped half-way through a familiar flutter up to her cheek. Neville had started to rise but never made it, lingering on the very edge of the step as though he might topple forward any moment. Ginny was standing utterly still. Malfoy was sitting with Luna on the bottom step, his cloak crumpled under them, and the look on his face was about as blank as the one on Luna's.

In the back of his mind, Harry suspected that only seconds had really passed.

Hermione's hand finished it's flighty motion, and she pressed it to her mouth. "Oh, Luna."

Harry looked at Luna again, since that seemed to be everyone's focus.

There was no difference that he could see, until he followed the curve of her bony shoulder and realized that her arm was stretched out, her hand resting on Malfoy's knee, grasping his fingers in a way that looked, even from a distance, like it could be painful.

"Do you..." Draco ventured faintly, "do you suppose she does hear everything?"

"Of course she does!" Hermione said, her voice thin and barely audible.

"I told you," Ginny said, choking up. "I told you."

Neville was patting Hermione's shoulder; Hermione looked to be crying silently, her eyes dry and wide open, her shoulders shaking. She reached for Neville's hand and stopped its movement, pressing it down.

In the next few minutes, as Harry watched, the five gradually rearranged themselves so that in the end Ginny was sitting off by herself on the top step, fidgeting with her wand, and Hermione and Neville sat down on the bottom step, Malfoy and Luna in between. They sat there, silently, all of them staring off into space.

Harry leaned his head against the damp, cold stone of the column, his neck and shoulders aching with tension.

Ron hadn't moved either; Harry could still hear him breathing irregularly on the other side of the column.

"Hermione, I'm really sorry, but -" Ginny bit her lip, trailing off for a moment. "But they'll come looking for us, you know."

Hermione seemed to give herself a little shake. She pushed back her hair, which had fallen into her face. "Yes. Yes, of course."

"I still haven't a clue -" Ginny said, her voice now trembling. "I haven't any clue what's going on, and you won't explain, and I -"

Hermione burst into sobs.

"I'm sorry!" Ginny cried, wringing her hands and almost dropping her wand. She stood up abruptly and stepped two steps down, but stopped short. "I'm sorry!"

It took a few minutes for Hermione to start to calm down, with Neville patting her uselessly and looking like he wasn't too far from crying himself; he was blinking and swallowing twice the normal number of times, and his eyes were very wide and wild.

Harry had seen Hermione cry before, of course, but it still shocked him to see it this time. He felt he was witnessing something he shouldn't be, and that thought crept over him until he could barely stop himself from averting his eyes.

"We just -" Hermione's voice hitched. "We wanted to get together - all of us - in one place - because -"

"I think you need to take Luna back," Malfoy said, looking between Neville and Ginny before his eyes darted back to Hermione. "She shouldn't be here..."

Ginny came down the rest of the steps and gently lifted Luna up. Luna's arm was still extended, but her fingers slipped from Malfoy's and her hand dangled.

"Help me, Neville."

But Neville, who had just managed to stand up, sank down next to Hermione again. "Come on, Hermione. It's okay. We _are_ together. We're all right -"

"_We_ are!" Hermione gasped out. "What about -"

"Don't," Malfoy said hoarsely. "Don't. Don't."

"I can't believe - they're really dead - it really happened - it happened - it _happened_ -"

Malfoy slid from the step, backing away from her.

"WHO IS DEAD?" Ginny said, her good eye going huge. "Who are you talking about?"

Harry had a terrible time following the disjointed half-thoughts that tumbled from Hermione's mouth, but what he did understand made his blood run cold.

"I was alone - days and days in the dark - they put Neville in my cell - I was going to die when he left - I knew I was going to die -"

The others were staring at her in frightened silence, except for Luna, who had collapsed a bit against Ginny's side and was still gazing unseeingly straight ahead.

"- Luna - Draco - Vincent -" Hermione whimpered hysterically. "- Gregory - Vincent gave me food -"

Malfoy kept backing away until he hit the wall. The hand Harry could see was clutching at the stones behind him.

"They moved me - someone was there - too dark to see - so cold - had to say all those awful things - I think he died - writing all those lies - they moved me again -"

Ginny, whom Harry had only seen take charge a few times, during D.A. practice, suddenly straightened, her shell-shocked expression turning fierce.

"Neville, take Luna - NOW." Not waiting for him to do so, she pulled him up by the sleeve and pushed Luna into his arms. "Start walking, Neville, I'm right behind you."

Neville stumbled down the corridor like a drunkard, leading Luna with him.

"Hermione, we need to go. Mum will know what to do, but not if we're down here."

Ginny grasped Hermione under the arm and pulled her up much as she had Neville; Hermione made no protest, though she continued to rock back and forth, her fist in her mouth.

"YOU -" Ginny rounded on Malfoy, her voice commanding. "I can't leave you down here, so you're coming with us. We'll drop you off at your common room." She glared at him when he didn't obey. "MOVE IT."

Malfoy looked like he would rather slide down the damp wall and huddle into a miserable ball, but Ginny's yell got him stumbling after Neville.

Their footsteps died away into silence.

"Bloody hell... she lost it."

Ron's whisper jerked Harry out of his stupor.

Ron had left their hiding place and was staring at the stairs like he was seeing something that wasn't there.

Harry tried to back away. His stomach was twisted into a knot; he knew he should have never been there to witness what had just happened.

Ron rounded on him. Harry expected Ron to lunge at him.

"I don't know what you think you're playing at," Ron ground out. "You slime! Why are you here?"

"You should talk," Harry said hotly. Blood pounded in his temples. He had a sudden, desperate need to not be standing there with Ron looking at him like he was a split hair away from pummeling him into the floor. If he had just taken the potion before leaving his room... "You came down here to spy on them, too."

Ron's eyes were crazed.

Harry braced himself, but while Ron's shoulder slammed painfully hard into his as he stalked by, he reckoned he had got off easy.

He had no idea when he started walking. At some point he found himself in an unfamiliar corridor, Malfoy's forgotten cloak dangling from his hand, and didn't know how he had got there.

He kept walking. The winding corridors gradually slanted upward and the lit torches on the walls grew less infrequent. At the next corner, he recognized the bust of William the Wronged.

He didn't know why he kept walking on past Snape's office rather than turn down the side corridor leading to his own room. His feet seemed to have a mind of their own, which he idly thought was a good thing, because his mind certainly wasn't working properly just then.

When he realized where he was headed, he stopped short.

Snape had said all the adults were working on something in the staff room. There might be no one upstairs; no one but the twins and maybe Percy, whom Harry hadn't even seen yet and who'd had to be hexed into coming to Hogwarts.

Harry forced his suddenly reluctant feet to start moving again.

It always did fall to him to do these sorts of things and get nothing but blame for it later. It was his 'saving people' thing.

He took a deep breath, which did absolutely nothing, and knocked on the staff room door.

He had expected Snape himself to yank the door open and start demanding what Harry - or, rather, Hadrian - thought he was doing interrupting a meeting. He had been told five separate times - suddenly each of those five times echoed very clearly through his head - to stay out of the way and not interrupt except in a dire emergency.

Only, this _was_ an emergency.

Snape didn't open the door. It swung open all on its own, and then he was staring into the long, paneled room he had only seen the inside of a few times before.

The mismatched chairs were still there, and they were all occupied. Half a dozen pairs of eyes were on him. He had interrupted McGonagall mid-sentence. Snape was rising out of his seat, his chair scraping the floor and making the only sound Harry heard; Lupin was staring at him. Mr. Weasley and Bill were taking out their wands -

Snape pushed past him and the door shut silently, hiding the room and its occupants from view.

"Breathe."

Harry only suddenly realized there was darkness creeping in around the edges of his vision, just like the time Snape had force-fed him a calming draught when he had panicked over something stupid - something stupid that didn't matter at all -

"Breathe!"

Harry let out a gasp.

"This had better be an emergency," Snape said grimly, his eyes narrowed and searching Harry's face. "If I find out this is some more of your usual nonsense -"

Snape's insult cleared Harry's mind when nothing else had.

"It's an emergency, believe me," Harry said. His voice cracked. "You need to check on Malfoy and Luna. Mrs. Weasley needs to get back right now."

Snape's eyes still burned into his for another moment, but then, without another word to Harry, he yanked open the staff room door and started issuing orders.

"Minerva, check the wards. Molly, do a head count and send a messenger. Lupin, do the same and take Hadrian - you know where the calming draughts are. I will see to Draco first -"

Harry slumped in relief against a wall and didn't know anything more until someone grabbed him under the elbow and steered him back toward the dungeons. He wanted to say that there was no outside threat this time, but his mouth wasn't cooperating.

Lupin deposited him onto the divan and for a moment looked torn between the Map - Harry saw him looking toward the bookcase where it was kept - and the cabinet on the opposite side of the room.

"I'm fine," Harry said with effort. His own voice sounded far away.

Lupin looked at him like he had lost his mind, and went for the potion.

Harry's head began to clear again. He felt slightly as though he were floating just above the divan rather than lying on top of it, but at least he could _think_ again.

It was almost worse, really. His ears burned, thinking how he had nearly fallen apart again.

Lupin had the Map and was shooting worried glances at Harry even as he searched it, unfolding it as he went along to see more of the castle.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "There's no one... I mean, it wasn't Fudge again or anything."

Lupin lowered the Map to his lap and looked at Harry.

"There was -" Harry shuddered involuntarily, remembering. "They met - Ginny, Hermione, Neville, Luna, and Malfoy. In the dungeons. Hermione went completely hysterical. Ginny had to drag everyone off. Ron saw everything. I was hiding - I wasn't myself - I wasn't supposed to be there - I couldn't do anything..."

For a horrible moment, he imagined that this was the sort of thing Snape, Lupin, and all the rest of the adults would consider an utter waste of their time; a complete non-emergency.

Lupin folded the Map and stood up. "Are you going to be all right if I leave you here?"

Harry nodded, swallowing.

"Don't try to get up, just lie down for a bit."

Harry nodded.

"I'm just going to make sure no one needs me, check in with McGonagall, and I'll be back."

Harry's head wagged all on its own.

"Just stay right there." Lupin made a staying motion with his hand. "Don't walk off."

The potion was lulling Harry into sleep even as Lupin was walking out. He thought Lupin had given him too much, maybe... or maybe he had gulped too much from the bottle... how many doses were in one of those bottles...?

"Harry?"

Harry thought that voice was vaguely familiar.

"These panic attacks are worrying me."

"This is only the second time, Lupin."

"Still... Harry?"

Harry opened his eyes blearily. "Wassit? Whozair?"

Snape made a derisive sound, and Harry suddenly remembered everything.

"No. No, don't get up yet."

Lupin's hand on his chest kept him from moving, anyway.

"Your friends are fine. Molly is taking care of everyone and Arthur's got Ron off somewhere."

Harry looked from Lupin over to Snape.

Snape was standing a few paces behind Lupin, arms folded over his chest, studying Harry with a closed expression.

"It _was_ an emergency," Harry said defensively.

"No one is saying otherwise, Harry," Lupin said soothingly. "Hermione had worked herself into a state of shock. Neville wasn't much better. Luna will be in bed for days with the cold she caught." Lupin shook his head incredulously. "What _were_ they thinking?"

Snape snorted. "Thinking? There wasn't an intelligent thought between the lot of them."

"Shush," Lupin said, his voice hardening. "It must have started out innocently. It got out of control. They're only children. We should have been paying more attention and maybe we would have known they needed to do this."

"Is what Hermione said true?" Harry asked. He couldn't seem to push his voice above a hoarse whisper. "All those things really happened?"

"I don't know what she said," Lupin said, turning back to Harry. "She's been given a calming potion same as you."

"She said she thought she was going to die," Harry said. There was a huge lump rising in his throat. "She said she _knew_ she would die."

Lupin exchanged a glance with Snape, who shook his head almost imperceptibly.

"She said," Harry pressed on quickly, thinking he was about to be silenced, "she was in a cell and someone was with her and that person died! She said she was in a cell with Malfoy and Crabbe and Goyle and _they_ died!"

"I wasn't aware she could have been present for that," Snape said. His face had gone ashen while Harry was speaking. "She was released very early on."

Harry struggled to sit up, in spite of Lupin's hand still pressing at the center of his chest. "She said she lost track of time, she was held for so long!"

Lupin glanced at Snape before speaking. "We suspect the Ministry was using spells. Nearly everyone who was detained experienced anomalies in the passing of time."

Harry growled in frustration. Did Lupin have a rehearsed explanation for everything?

"Potter, do you need another calming draught?"

"No!" Harry turned on Lupin. "You told me my friends were safe! Does that sound like _safe_?"

"We spoke about this, Harry. By the time you asked, she and Neville had been released and were being looked after -"

"She told me!" Harry struggled against Lupin's hand again, this time managing to pull himself up into a half-slump against the back of the divan. "Moving from place to place, sleeping in shop cellars, being left alone for days in the middle of a forest with... with _nothing_ -"

"I'm sorry," Lupin said, his tone going brittle. "I'm sorry, Harry, but unfortunately that was as safe as anyone could be. If you won't take my word for it that they were being watched over, then I don't know what else to tell you."

Harry deflated just as quickly as the fury had come on him. He leaned his head back and breathed.

"Just... tell me you didn't use my friends to send Fudge on a wild goose chase."

He didn't even know where the thought had come from, and yet he knew he had the gist of it even before Lupin's silence confirmed it.

"You dangled Hermione and Neville like bait, knowing the Ministry was going to follow them all over the place." Harry didn't even bother to make it a question. "After what they'd already been through."

"It was out of our hands."

"I saw those Daily Prophet articles. That was bait, wasn't it. It was to make the Ministry come after her."

"No, Potter."

Harry looked over at Snape, but Lupin was the one who spoke next.

"The Ministry got that out of her while she was detained. We know they recorded a number of statements from various people, and they've been releasing the ones that suit them."

Harry closed his eyes for a few moments.

"You don't understand. I put my friends in danger. They were targeted because of _me_, something _I_ did." He felt sick as the words left his mouth. "And all this time _I_ was _safe_ - I was at the Dursleys - I was just sitting - I didn't even know -"

"Potter," Snape said, pressing a glass into Harry's hands, "drink it before you vomit all over my furniture. This conversation is over."

Harry gulped the potion, giving in resignedly to the drowsiness that quickly returned.

"I'm going to check on Draco again," Snape told Lupin, giving Harry a sideways look. "He should sleep for a few hours."

Harry didn't know if Snape meant him or Malfoy; Lupin was pulling him into a lying position and covering him with a heavy blanket, and he couldn't seem to fight drifting off.

Snape was gone when Harry thought to open his eyes just one last time and actually managed to do it.

Lupin brushed hair off Harry's forehead, his weak smile fading before it could take the edge off his defeated expression.

"I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry let the potion take him under.

* * *

Lupin was still there when Harry woke up. He had pulled a chair over to the fireplace, and a low fire was burning in the grate. He put down his book when he noticed Harry looking at him.

"Do you feel any better?" he asked cautiously.

Harry managed a grunt that sounded more or less affirmative. His mouth felt sticky and tasted of stale potions.

"You slept through dinner."

Harry raised his arm to check his watch, but it wasn't there.

"I took it off. I thought you would be more comfortable." Lupin produced the watch from his pocket, offering it to Harry. "Do you need anything? Some water?"

"Can I geddup?" Harry asked. His tongue felt too big for his mouth.

"Certainly," Lupin said, eyeing him with a slightly wary expression. "If you feel up to it."

Harry nodded and sat up, wincing when his head swam for a second or two. He ignored the way Lupin had stood up, since Lupin didn't try to approach him.

In the bathroom a few moments later, he gargled and spat until the taste of the calming potions was almost gone. He looked himself over in the mirror.

In contrast to how he felt, his reflection looked normal; better, even, than usual, because he'd had permanent dark circles under his eyes from lack of decent sleep, and now they were nearly gone.

He spent longer than necessary in the bathroom; he had the suspicion that Lupin would want to talk, and he didn't want to deal with that.

Lupin had sat down again by the time Harry finally came out, but Harry wasn't fooled by the book that was back in his hands. As soon as Harry walked in the room, the book was set aside; Lupin had been waiting for him.

"Let me guess," Harry said grumpily, "we need to talk."

"Only if you're ready," Lupin said. He didn't quite manage to hide the hint of reproach that crept into his voice. "I know you've had a rough day."

Harry sat down on the edge of the divan.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like some tea?"

Harry shook his head. "No. Thanks just the same."

"All right," Lupin said with a small sigh. "Well, I'm not sure where to begin..."

"I didn't get to see them," Harry said.

"What do you mean?" Lupin asked, frowning.

"I asked S- _Professor_ Snape if I could see them today, and he brought me the potions and my clothes and said I could go. But I didn't. I don't know why I didn't."

Lupin looked at him sympathetically. "Harry..."

"If I had, I think I could have done something -"

"No, Harry. Very likely you couldn't have. Near as I can tell, Hermione thought she was orchestrating a reunion of sorts. We should have realized they might want, or need, to do that. I think it might have been seeing each other at breakfast and not having the chance to talk, and Luna wasn't able to be there -"

"It was horrible," Harry continued, only half hearing Lupin. "Ginny kept asking Hermione to explain, and Hermione just... she just..."

"It must have been very difficult to watch," Lupin said. "I'm sorry. Harry, for whatever it's worth, what we're learning about their time in Ministry custody is coming as a shock to us, too. No one expected horrors on this level."

Harry couldn't speak, struggling to push down the lump in his throat.

Lupin averted his eyes, giving Harry some time to get himself together.

"We thought it would do some good to let them have tea and a light supper together tonight. If you'd like, I'm sure you could still join them."

Harry, to his own shock, almost didn't want to. He felt drained; the thought of seeing his friends again was exhausting.

"Yes, please," he said instead.

"All right, I'll see about the best way to do it," Lupin said. "I'm sure no one will think it odd if Hadrian isn't seen again tonight."

"Yeah," Harry said, cringing at the memory, "because everyone saw me practically faint in the doorway..."

Lupin shook his head. "You think that's worth worrying about? You should have seen Molly when she found the girls - her Patronus nearly flattened us on our way upstairs."

"Oh," Harry said. He wasn't sure how to feel. Poor Mrs. Weasley.

"Even Fred and George were frightened," Lupin went on. "I never saw them so quiet."

"I'm sorry I caused a panic," Harry said. "I wanted to say it wasn't Fudge, but -"

"Don't worry about it, Harry." Lupin gave him a pointed look, like he couldn't help himself. "We _want_ you to come to us rather than try to tackle problems on your own that are entirely too big for you to manage."

Harry nodded stiffly, deciding to let it pass without comment.

"Will you be all right if I go?"

"I'm fine," Harry said.

"Professor Snape is in his office. If he isn't, then he's checking on Draco. If you need anything, don't hesitate to go to him."

Harry knew he wouldn't go to Snape, no matter what he needed, but he nodded again.

"I'll be back when I have news for you. Try to rest. Would you like to borrow a textbook? I have some Defense books here."

"No. But thanks."

"All right."

But Lupin still hesitated, apparently reluctant to leave him.

"_Really_, I'm fine," Harry insisted. "I won't even get off this couch."

"Actually," Lupin said, "I was going to suggest you go back to your room and wash up, if you're really feeling so well."

Harry reckoned his hair had gone greasy, limp, and tangled again. "Oh, well... all right."

"I can see you part of the way there," Lupin said, smiling invitingly.

"Fine," Harry said, a little shortly. Now Lupin was going to escort him everywhere? "Let's go."

A few minutes later they were walking through the dungeon corridors. Harry couldn't help noticing when Lupin took two turns that weren't part of the directions Harry had been given.

"I keep getting lost," he said. "I think I've been lost more times this week than -"

"Shh!" Lupin warned.

Harry swallowed the rest of his sentence, reminded that he was not supposed to have been to Hogwarts before.

"I'll see what I can do about that," Lupin said, patting him on the back. "Or you will get used to it. Severus tells me he spends the first weeks of every year rescuing lost Slytherins... although I suspect he might have been exaggerating slightly, or else Professor Sprout would be complaining of the same thing."

Harry nodded, not very hopeful that Lupin would do anything. He supposed if the Slytherins could get used to the underground labyrinth, so could he, but in the meantime it really wasn't pleasant to keep going down the wrong passageways all the time.

"Here we are," Lupin said, giving him a slight push toward the door. "I will see you in a little while."

Harry walked on by himself, only turning around when he had the door open and was a step inside the room.

Lupin, who had not moved from where he had stopped and had been watching Harry, gave him a friendly wave and left.

Harry closed the door, sat down on his bed, and absently pulled open A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration.

Some time later, as he finished a chapter, Harry looked up, blinking, and then stared at the book in his hands as if seeing it for the first time.

He didn't remember even thinking that he would study. Sure, now that he had the book, it seemed like a good idea to spend the time studying until Lupin came back, but it was disconcerting to have done so without _intending_ to.

A little disturbed, he put the book down on his desk and went to wash his hair.

* * *

By the time Harry had got out of the shower, dressed, and had enough time to become bored and pick up his textbook again, Lupin was back.

"Good news. Professor Snape says the potions he gave you will work just as well cold, though they might taste worse now that they've thickened. I assume you have everything you need?"

Harry nodded. "What's the plan?"

Lupin's smile wavered and then slid completely off his face. The wary expression Harry was becoming intimately familiar with replaced it.

"All right," Harry said, "I take it I'm not going to like it?"

"Well..." Lupin studied him, pausing for a few moments before continuing. "You might not. Really, Harry, lately I find I'm not as good a judge as I'd like to be of what will or won't upset you."

"Then you might as well just tell me," Harry said, feeling slightly irritated already.

"It's just that it occurred to me you may not have quite understood earlier."

Harry waited as Lupin maddeningly paused again.

"Draco will be there."

"Oh," Harry said. It was true he hadn't exactly dwelled on it, but did Lupin have to assume he was completely oblivious? "You did say that, before."

"I didn't say so explicitly," Lupin countered. "I thought it might have been lost in your excitement about seeing your friends."

"No," Harry said, irritated now with himself, because for the second time he experienced a complete lack of excitement. For some reason, whatever part of his brain was responsible for feeling excited had decided to view this opportunity to visit with his friends as some sort of chore, instead.

"Good," Lupin said, putting false brightness into his voice. "Well, then, just remember that you would not have seen Draco since school ended, and try not to antagonize him. You wouldn't want to force your friends into a difficult position of feeling disloyal because they want to be friendly with him."

Harry frowned, feeling another weight being added to the burden he was already carrying. His mind was already turning over a number of things he would have to act like he didn't know about Malfoy. And he would be doing it in front of Hermione, too.

"All right, Harry?" Lupin asked, studying him closely. He had most likely misinterpreted Harry's expression completely.

"Sure."

"I have something that might make you feel better," Lupin said, his tone bright again. "Something I'm sure you've been wanting."

"What is it?" Harry asked suspiciously. So often, the things people thought he should want tended to fall far from the mark.

"You'll be able to spend longer with your friends this time. Just as your meal is ending, you will all receive bottles of butterbeer. Yours will just happen to have more potion in it."

Harry tried to plaster a happy expression on his face.

It was ghastly, really, that this was happening when he couldn't convince himself he even wanted to go at all.

Lupin didn't seem to notice anything amiss. "You will still need to keep track of time after drinking the second dose, of course. You should try to leave a bit early, in fact, so as not to make your visit seem very obviously exactly two hours long. A bit over an hour will do, and then leave at a leisurely pace, like you have no great reason to hurry. Perhaps agree to stay a bit longer when they ask you to."

Harry, now aware that this was going to be yet another exercise in throwing suspicion off Hadrian, just nodded.

"All right," Lupin said, frowning a bit as Harry didn't verbalize an answer. "You should wait a few minutes after I'm gone, then use your Cloak to get to the antechamber off the Entrance Hall - the one where first years wait to be sorted - and from there return to the dungeons. We don't want to take any chances, so you should be walking out of that room and returning to it, in case anyone happens to be paying attention."

"Are we eating in the kitchens again, then?" Harry asked.

"Er -" Lupin said, giving him that wary look again. "No."

Harry waited.

Lupin sighed. "The Slytherin common room - I'm sorry, Harry."

"That's all right," Harry said, managing to keep most of his grumpiness out of his voice. "It's fine."

"I'm going, then. We wouldn't want you to be _too_ fashionably late. Good luck, Harry."

"Thanks," Harry said, waiting until the door had shut behind Lupin before he let his shoulders slump.

He tried again to convince himself this was what he wanted, trying to regain the excitement and anticipation he had felt that morning, when he had dared to beg Snape for an extra chance to spend time with his friends.

Seeing Hermione falling apart had knocked all of that desire out him.

He shook off that nasty, selfish thought. It had no right to exit. Those were his friends. He needed to be _with_ them, even if he didn't know what he could do _for_ them.

He yanked open the bottom drawer of the wardrobe and took the clothes and the potions out.

Going over the plan Lupin had outlined, he decided it would be easiest just to return to his room before the potion wore off, rather than try to change clothes in the antechamber that may or may not easily lock from the inside.

After a moment of consideration, he changed clothes and dropped everything he had been wearing into the drawer, except the wand. He couldn't bring himself to go around without a wand, even if the wand was something that could give him away and ruin everything.

He drank the absolutely disgusting, lumpy, thickened potion, gagging and gulping air in between sips. Snape hadn't been jesting when he said it would be worse cold.

He dropped the empty goblet next to the other one, and shut the drawer with a kick.

He threw the Cloak over himself and cautiously opened the door.

No one was around, and the corridor was silent.

Harry had no trouble at all making it to the Entrance Hall; he met no one on the way. He couldn't resist taking an extra few seconds to creep up to the door to the staff room, where he could hear the sound of people talking, but the door was shut and he couldn't actually hear anything.

In the antechamber, he waited to the count of one hundred.

Then, taking his Cloak off, he headed back to the dungeons.

The door to the Slytherin common room was already open, greenish light pouring out of the doorway.

Harry couldn't help himself; he pulled the Cloak on again and stepped closer to the wall, creeping up to the doorway slowly. He reckoned it wouldn't harm anything to see what was going on inside before he showed himself.

His foot sent a loose bit of stone skidding noisily across the floor.

"If that's you, Ron," Ginny's voice called from inside the common room, "you can just come in. We aren't upset."

Harry threw the Cloak off sheepishly, stepping through the doorway. "Er - no, it's just me."

"Harry!"

Harry found himself grabbed and hugged and pulled - all at the same time - toward the table that had been set up in front of the fireplace.

"We didn't think we'd see you again so soon," Ginny said, steering him to a comfortable chair. "Sit! Tell us everything!"

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked, finally extricating himself from Hermione's hug.

There was an instant silence.

Hermione sat down in the chair next to him, biting her lip.

"Ron's being difficult just now," Ginny said. She glanced at Neville. "Right, Neville?"

"W-what?" Neville blinked owlishly. "Oh. Yeah."

"Harry..."

Harry looked back at Hermione, who was looking at him like she expected him to blow up any moment. Since she didn't say anything, after a minute he let his eyes wander around the table.

"Hello, Luna."

"She's not much better," Hermione said, shaking her head.

Harry sighed.

His eyes landed on the person in the next chair.

"Malfoy." He tried very hard to keep his voice even. "I heard what happened. I'm sorry."

Malfoy nodded and didn't say anything.

Hermione, on the other hand, let out a breath like she had been holding it for hours.

"Yes, well," Ginny said, laughing nervously. "Thank goodness for that. We didn't need another person screaming at us and running out of here."

Harry realized they had been waiting for his reaction to having Malfoy there; Hermione's face was regaining some color, and even Neville looked visibly relieved.

"I was told he'd be here. I don't mind. Too bad Ron's not here, though."

"I'll be sure to tell him that," Ginny said, a little vindictively. "He's such a prat."

No one said anything else.

Harry, now that he was settling down and his heart wasn't beating so fast, was beginning to feel the oppressive tension in the room. He didn't know if his arrival had brought it.

"Sorry," he said finally, glancing first at Hermione and then at Ginny. "If this is a bad time for me to be here..."

"No! No, it's not that, Harry," Hermione said rather breathlessly. "We're so very glad to see you."

Ginny and Neville, whom Hermione glanced at with a plea for support, started nodding.

"We were just talking - before you came in, I mean - about some things that are rather difficult." Hermione looked at him anxiously. "I don't know what you already know - that is - I mean - I know we spoke before -" She stopped, gasping slightly.

"I know enough," Harry said, a bit nervous himself. The things he had learned the previous day were starting to blur dangerously with the things he had found out just a few hours previously, but wasn't supposed to know. "You can just go ahead. Don't mind me."

But no one spoke.

There was a popping sound, and suddenly Harry found himself looking into a pair or large, luminous eyes.

"Dobby!"

"Harry Potter, sir! Dobby did not hope to see you again."

Harry frowned slightly at this. Had the fact that he would not be able to return to Hogwarts been so very obvious to everyone, right down to a house-elf?

Dobby apparently had orders to bring their food and not bother them, because with a snap of his long, thin fingers, a very large silver tray materialized on the table, and then, with a low bow, Dobby vanished.

"Erm... let's eat, everyone," Hermione said, reaching for a plate. She almost dropped it; her hands were shaking.

"Yes, let's," Ginny said, glancing at Harry. "This all looks so good. Are those pumpkin tarts?"

The spoon Hermione had taken from the pile of silverware clattered off her plate and went bouncing under the table, making a horrible racket on the stone floor.

"Hermione," Ginny said in a very low, very tense voice, "would you like some calming potion?"

Hermione shook her head, wisps of hair bouncing against her cheeks. "I've had enough of that, thanks!"

"I think you should have some," Ginny insisted. She produced a small bottle from her pocket and tried to reach over Harry to place it in front of Hermione.

"I _don't_ want any!" Hermione said desperately, her eyes suddenly sparkling with tears. "I don't - oh!" She thumped the table with her fist, making everything rattle. "_Why_ does everyone think I've lost my mind just because - because - well, because -" She gasped for breath, her eyes overflowing. "BECAUSE I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO'S SAYING WHAT WE'RE ALL THINKING!"

"Drink the potion, Hermione," Ginny said, her low voice going hard. "Or I'm getting Mum."

Hermione grabbed the bottle and drained it in one swallow. She wiped furiously at her eyes. "Are you happy? It doesn't make anything go away, you know. It doesn't make _any of it_ go away."

"I don't think they have anything that does."

Everyone looked at Malfoy, except for Luna.

"No," Neville agreed quietly when no one else spoke. "They don't."

"Of course they don't," Hermione said. Her tone was deadened and her eyes had gone a bit glassy, but she was grasping the table so hard her hands were white from the wrist down. "They'll just dose us with potions so we're quiet."

No one answered. One by one, they all filled their plates - Ginny filled Luna's and Hermione's as well as her own - and started to eat.

Harry didn't think he had ever sat at a more glum meal, and he'd had some bad ones recently.

"So, Potter," Malfoy said, glancing at him. "How is your summer so far?"

Harry stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what Malfoy meant by that. "Lousy. Not as lousy as yours, but... lousy."

Malfoy nodded and went back to his food.

Harry, feeling a tug on his hand, turned to Hermione with a frown. "What is it, Hermione?"

She jumped, flushing red. "Nothing! Nothing, Harry! Erm..."

Harry looked down and realized she had been turning his hand toward her.

"Erm... I just thought - your other scar is gone, so -"

"Oh. Yeah." He looked down at his hand, where the words 'I must not tell lies' were still quite visible. "This one's permanent, I think."

He was surprised she had tried that, after what happened earlier. But maybe he shouldn't have been. Lupin was right; Hermione wasn't going to do a half-arsed job.

He looked up just in time to notice that everyone but Luna had leaned forward to see, and now they were busy pretending they hadn't.

"Your scar's gone, Potter?"

Harry wordlessly lifted his fringe and let Malfoy get a good look at his scar-free forehead.

Malfoy shrugged a bit. "I guess 'Scarhead' is out. I'll need new material."

Neville chuckled nervously.

"I think you might be able to get something from the Daily Prophet," Harry said, not quite believing that he was joking with Malfoy.

On second thought, that must have been the wrong thing to say. Neville ducked his head. Hermione's eyes filled with tears again.

"What? What did I say?" Harry asked, dismayed. "I saw that trash. I'm not letting it bother me."

"Hush, Harry," Ginny said, shaking her head at him with a slightly frightened expression.

"I... I'm so sorry," Hermione said shakily, reaching for a napkin and practically hiding her face in it. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't want to - I'm sorry -"

"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded, ignoring Ginny's attempt to silence him. "It's not your fault they wrote that rubbish!"

"Yes it is!" Hermione whimpered. "It is, Harry! They made me write letters - _dozens_ of letters - to you and to Ron and - they made me say awful things and when I saw what they printed I -"

"Hermione! You think I care about any of that? I'm _glad_ you did what they wanted, if it stopped them doing anything worse to you."

Ginny hid her face in her hands, apparently giving up on stopping whatever was going to happen.

"I didn't get any letters, anyway," Harry finished lamely. "Not a single one except a really short one where you told me not to write back."

"I wrote that -" Hermione's voice broke and she took several sob-like breaths. "I wrote that after I was out."

"See?" Harry said. "It's fine. They didn't get what they wanted... whatever it was."

Hermione nodded, sniffling and still looking miserable.

There was a short silence again.

"Did you see the one they wrote about me?" Neville asked quietly. His voice was so brittle Harry expected him to be crying like Hermione in a minute. "The one where I said it's your fault my parents are worse than dead?"

Harry shook his head, his throat closing up.

Neville reached into his pocket and took out a ragged bit of newspaper. "Just don't wrinkle it - I haven't been to see them in months."

Harry reached for the article carefully.

There was a large picture of Neville's parents, huddled together on a St. Mungo's bed, and a picture of Neville, looking angry and twirling his wand in a menacing way.

**AURORS' SON BETRAYED!**  
**Neville Longbottom speaks out against Order of the Phoenix**  
Neville Longbottom, son of war heroes associated with the  
Order of the Phoenix during the first rise of He-Who-Must-  
Not-Be-Named, spoke out against the organization that,  
according to him, has been perverted from within by none  
other than the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter...

Harry stopped reading.

He looked Neville in the eyes.

"It's trash. Even if I had seen it, do you really think...?"

"We didn't know," Neville said, taking the newspaper clipping from him and putting it back in his pocket. "We didn't know, Harry. They made us say so many things. Every time, we would wonder if that would be the one you would think was true, or make you come out of hiding and walk right into their hands -"

Hermione started sobbing again, and Neville cut himself short.

"They made me say I was a Death Eater," Malfoy said quietly. "Then they made me say I wasn't - that I refused to join because I knew _you_ were one."

Harry snorted.

"Then," Malfoy continued, a little thickly, "they made me say I was afraid for my life because you had promised to hunt me down and kill me since you couldn't get at my father in Azkaban."

Harry stared at him.

"And I thought -" Malfoy swallowed, looking down. "I thought that might be what they wanted me for - to have me found somewhere so they could claim you'd done it... and maybe people would believe that."

"We didn't know _what_ they wanted us for, Harry," Neville put in. "We just guessed it was because of the Order or..." He flushed slightly. "Or... er... Dumbledore."

"Or me," Harry said, swallowing. "You can say it, Neville. We all know it."

"It just doesn't make sense," Hermione muttered. She was looking off to the side, her brows knotted together. "Doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't?" Ginny asked, looking at her worriedly. Her hand hovered over her pocket; Harry suspected she had more calming potions and had been instructed to use them.

Hermione looked up, looking from Neville to Malfoy and then at Luna, which made her face scrunch up with fresh tears. "Why they let any of us go."

No one answered her.

"Why let you go?" Hermione asked, turning to Malfoy. She had twisted her paper napkin in her hands until it was shredded. "Why let you go?"

Malfoy shrugged one shoulder, looking away. "My father, I suppose."

"Right," Hermione said, balling the napkin in her fist. "That's exactly right."

"Hermione..." Ginny began, looking even more concerned and sliding toward the edge of her seat.

Hermione stood up abruptly and began to pace. "They let you go even though you saw two of your friends die."

"Just one," Malfoy said, looking like he might be sick.

"Two! You were the last one to see Gregory alive. That's two."

"Hermione..." Harry said, exchanging a look with Ginny, who was starting to look frightened again.

Hermione didn't seem to hear or see him. "They let Luna go when she saw them kill her father. Why? _Why_?"

Afraid of making things worse, but unable to ignore her plea for answers, Harry repeated Lupin's words. "They might not have let her go, if they hadn't wanted McGonagall out of Hogwarts."

"That's it," Hermione agreed, raking the fingers of both hands through her hair. "That makes sense."

"What makes sense?" Ginny asked, barely audibly. "Hermione, you _aren't_ making any sense."

"They let _you_ go -!" Hermione whirled around to point at Neville, who turned even more pale. "You were only there a few days."

"My... Gran," Neville said helplessly.

"Your Gran!"

"Hermione," Harry said. "Hermione, you're scaring us."

She laughed shrilly. "I'm scaring myself, Harry, but it's all making sense! They were never going to let me go." She whirled on Malfoy. "They were never going to let you go!"

"Yeah," Malfoy said, still looking away from her, his shoulders hunched. "I kind of gathered that for myself."

"Look, Hermione -"

"No, you look! Look, Harry! Just look how it all fits!" Hermione grabbed his hand, which he had stretched out toward her without knowing what he was going to do. Her nails sank into his skin. "I was the first one they got. My parents are Muggles. No one knew I was gone. They came after Luna next. They killed her father. He was all she had in the world, Harry, and they killed him. Then they got Draco. His mother was leaving the country and his father was in Azkaban. I don't know when they got Gregory and Vincent, but their parents are _still_ in Azkaban. And they _died_, Harry, don't you see?"

Harry tried to pull his hand away, but she only tightened her grip.

"Neville was the first person they put in my cell. I think they just made a mistake."

"I don't understand," Harry said, still trying to free his hand. "I don't, Hermione... you're hurting me."

She dropped his hand. "Neville is the reason I was freed, Harry. The _only_ reason."

"Me?" Neville squeaked. "I -"

"You saw me, Neville. No one was looking for me. No one even knew I'd been taken. It might have been too late by the time someone realized."

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry said quietly, "but I think it might be easier just to admit they took you to try to get at me."

Hermione dropped back into her chair limply. "I think I'll have that potion now, Ginny."

Harry looked down at his almost untouched plate. The food had gone cold. And he didn't want any of it.

"You can call your house-elf back, Potter," Malfoy said from the other end of the table. He pushed his plate away. "I think it's safe to say we're all done."

"He's not my house-elf. Dobby is free. I don't even know how to call him."

Malfoy gave him a slightly disgusted look. "Snap your fingers and say his name, obviously."

Harry, for lack of a better idea, snapped his fingers. "Dobby?"

"Harry Potter called Dobby?"

Harry twisted in his seat; Dobby had appeared behind him.

"Yeah, Dobby, thanks. We're done eating."

Dobby snapped _his_ fingers, and the food vanished from the table, leaving only bits of Hermione's napkin.

With another snap, a tray of butterbeer appeared in Dobby's hands.

With a small bow, Dobby levitated the bottles off the tray. One settled in front of each person at the table, except Harry's, which he caught in mid-air.

"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said.

"It is Dobby's pleasure, Harry Potter, sir."

Then Dobby was gone.

"That elf always was very strange," Malfoy muttered, popping open his bottle.

Harry drank the potion, finding it very hard to pretend he was having butterbeer. He felt himself growing more irritable with every disgusting sip.

Fortunately for him, no one else looked like they were getting much enjoyment out of theirs, either.

"When do you have to go?" Ginny asked Harry quietly. She was still looking at Hermione with great concern, though since the second potion Hermione was no more animated than Luna was.

"Oh," Harry said, grimacing over another swallow, "I can stay a while longer, I think."

He didn't want to. But he wasn't going against Lupin's plans; there wasn't any good reason to, since his emotional exhaustion probably didn't count as one.

Ginny looked at him closely, studying his face. "You look so tired, Harry. Are you all right? Are you in a safe place?"

"Yeah," Harry said, giving her a small smile that felt tight and uncomfortable. "I'm safe."

"Are you all by yourself? Is it horrible?"

Harry got away with a shrug. Apparently, everyone had been instructed not to pry into his whereabouts, because Ginny didn't persist.

"Poke that fire, Neville, you're closest," Ginny said, rubbing her arms. "I don't know how you stand it," she said to Malfoy.

Malfoy shrugged. "It's kept warm during the school year."

Ginny, still rubbing her arms agitatedly, got up and made a slow circle of the immediate area, pausing to look at the things displayed on the mantle and the tapestries on the walls.

"Creepy," she pronounced, staring at a snake carved in ebony. "Do you know, this is exactly what I imagined your common room looked like?"

Malfoy shrugged again. "I've seen yours. Umbridge gave us the passwords to all the common rooms and we - _I_ - got in once when everyone else was at breakfast."

Ginny looked a little upset by this.

"Makes us even, then," Harry said lightly. "I got in here our second year, trying to find out if you were the Heir of Slytherin."

Malfoy looked at him, one eyebrow raised. After a moment he decided not to comment.

They lapsed into another long silence.

Harry, who had finished his butterbeer a while back, finally put down the empty bottle, then wished he hadn't because he had nothing to do with his hands.

"Sorry this isn't more fun," Neville said, giving him a wan smile. "We're a glum bunch right now."

"Didn't come here for fun," Harry said, shrugging. "Thought we should be together as much as we could."

"This can't last," Ginny said, her voice rising a bit desperately. "Look, we thought the thing with Voldemort would go on and on, but that's over -"

"This, too, shall pass."

Everyone, as one, turned to stare at Luna.

There was nothing to show that she had spoken, or that she was aware of any of them or anything else around her.

Hermione pressed her hands against her mouth and sobbed silently.

"I... I think I need to get Mum," Ginny said faintly. "I'm out of potions."

"I'll go with you," Harry offered. "I might as well go, anyway. I hope we can get together later."

Neville gave him a smile that was more of a grimace; he was patting Hermione on the shoulder again.

Malfoy just looked at him, not saying anything.

"Well, bye," Harry said, giving the room at large a dejected sort of wave. "Stay safe."

"Bye, Harry," Neville said, trying for a smile again and failing.

Hermione didn't even look up.

"Come on, Harry," Ginny said, pursing her lips. "I really think I need to get someone."

They walked out of the common room together, Ginny's fast steps setting the pace.

Harry tried to think of something to say, but his mind decided not to cooperate, and they were in the Entrance Hall before he could.

"Bye, Harry," Ginny said, suddenly giving him a bone-crushing hug. "It was brilliant to see you again. I know my family's been awfully lucky -"

"Don't say it," Harry said into her hair. "No one's been lucky. Everyone's been affected, somehow."

"But we're all together, and I didn't even know -" Ginny pulled back. Her eyes were full of tears. "I didn't even know, Harry. I kept nagging Hermione to tell me everything - I feel so stupid!"

"It's not your fault," Harry said. "We can't start blaming ourselves and each other."

Ginny wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "You're right." She smiled shakily. "I won't if you won't."

"Deal," Harry said. But he already thought it was easier said than done. Well, at least not blaming his friends was easy. _They_ really weren't responsible for anything.

Ginny let him go, her hand trailing down his arm and lingering when she caught his fingers. "Well, good bye. I do hope they let you come again really soon."

Harry nodded. "Bye, Ginny."

Reluctantly, he headed for the antechamber, listening to Ginny's footsteps and the sound of a door opening and shutting behind her.

Pulling his Invisibility Cloak over his head, he crept out of the small room and started walking back to the dungeons.

He was so drained that even though it was hours before his usual bedtime, he didn't bother changing into his regular clothes. The potion hadn't even worn off yet when he pulled on his pajamas and crawled into bed.

* * *

It was very early when he woke up. He lay awake for some time, staring at the barely-visible ceiling in the dark, until he couldn't lie still anymore. He leaned over the edge of the bed and retrieved the Muggle wristwatch from where he had dropped it on top of the pile of discarded clothes. It was barely four in the morning.

He had a vague sense of having had a bad dream, but he couldn't remember it. He supposed that was an improvement, even though it didn't leave him any more well-rested than usual, because his nightmares were almost always painfully vivid.

With a huffy sigh, he turned on the lights and set about cleaning up the mess he had made the previous evening.

He folded everything neatly. Then, rummaging in Snape's old trunk, which he had never got around to unpacking, he found a cloth sack. He stuffed everything into it, just in case he was asked to bring those those things to Snape's office or to Lupin's. He added the empty silver goblet.

The other goblet he took with him into the bathroom, and emptied it into the sink before cleaning his teeth.

To his own annoyance, the only thing he found to do was his Transfiguration book. He was almost done with it; Snape had assigned one third, but Harry was nearing the end.

Just the same, he still hoped Snape would forget about tutoring him. It wasn't doing any good, unless the whole purpose was to antagonize Harry... in which case it had to be doing Snape some good.

Still in the same bad mood, Harry headed up to breakfast nearly a half hour early.

He was sorry as soon as he walked into the Great Hall. Snape was already there, sipping coffee and looking over the Daily Prophet with a scowl.

"Good morning," Harry said, judging the distance he had come into the Great Hall before noticing Snape was there, and deciding there was no way Snape had missed him.

"Good morning, Hadrian," Snape said, moving the newspaper to the side to give him a long, scrutinizing look. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, moving reluctantly to sit in the chair opposite Snape. "Reasonably well, but I woke up a little early. Do you know I've nearly finished A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration? I know you only wanted... one... third... er..."

Harry, disturbed and confused, managed to force his mouth closed.

Snape was looking at him with an expression that couldn't seem to decide between interest and revulsion.

"I see," Snape said finally, not taking his eyes off Harry. "We will have a short study session this morning, to check on your progress."

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak again. Maybe not _ever_ again. He couldn't believe he had babbled at Snape.

Snape disappeared behind the paper again. Harry, having nothing else to do, studied the headlines on the back page, though except for one, they were not particularly interesting.

**MINISTER CLAIMS LEAD**  
Minister Fudge claims to have captured the lead in the  
upcoming election, despite no votes having been cast as  
of this writing...

Harry sighed.

He didn't get it, really. The Daily Prophet didn't seem to be particularly pro-Fudge. Why did it insist on printing rubbish about Harry and the Order of the Phoenix?

The table around him was filling. Harry tried to nod or smile courteously at each new arrival, but mostly he kept his eyes averted.

McGonagall dropped a bundle of mail in front of Snape; he nodded his thanks and pocketed the letters without even glancing at the top one.

Bill and Charlie arrived with Mr. Weasley, who Harry thought was looking tired and slightly disheveled, like he had perhaps stayed up part of the night, or fallen asleep on a couch or in an armchair.

Fred and George came in with Ron on their heels; Harry didn't so much as look their way, but caught sight of Ron's glare anyway.

Neville came in alone, looking nervously around the table before sitting down at the opposite end from Ron and the twins.

Mrs. Weasley came in next, herding the girls in, with her arm around Luna and her hand on Hermione's shoulder.

Lupin came in last, with Malfoy trailing a step or two behind him.

"Good morning," Lupin said to the room at large. "Are you feeling better, Hadrian?"

Harry felt the tips of his ears start to burn. Did Lupin _need_ to single him out like that?

"Yes, sir," he managed.

Lupin gave him an appraising look, but didn't say anything more.

Malfoy looked around the table for a place to sit; Harry watched him reject the empty place next to Hermione, which was also next to Ron, and finally settle on the one between Neville and Lupin. Seeing Harry looking at him, he smiled slightly.

Harry tried to smile back, not quite sure if he succeeded.

"Hadrian."

Harry looked at Snape.

"We will have to cut your tutoring session short. I have a lot I need to get done."

Harry nodded. Hadn't Snape just told him that? "All right."

"I would appreciate it if you would make yourself useful in the extra time you will have this morning." Snape paused, giving him what Harry supposed was meant to be a meaningful look. "You may choose between helping clear out Professor Lupin's office or gutting more frogs."

Harry, who had not gutted any frogs as of yet, decided that Snape must mean for him to see Lupin, and was giving him an excuse to do so.

He looked at Lupin, who smiled at him.

"I would appreciate your help, if you're willing."

"Sure," Harry said. He turned back to Snape. "I'll help Professor Lupin, if that's all right."

Snape nodded curtly.

"What will I do?" Malfoy asked, when Snape looked like he was going to return to eating.

Snape frowned. "You will continue to rest, Draco. If you are lacking entertainment, you can review your textbooks. I'm sure Hadrian will be pleased to let you borrow the fifth year set..." Snape turned his glinting eyes on Harry. "Seeing how he has no need of them at the moment."

"Severus," Lupin said, so quietly that Harry doubted anyone not sitting at their end of the table heard him.

"Sure," Harry said quickly. He didn't want either Lupin or Snape - or Malfoy or Neville, for that matter - to get the idea that Snape's comment prickled. "I can lend them to you. I even have the sixth year Defense book already."

He saw Hermione's head perk up at that. So she _was_ listening; Harry had been concerned to see her so silent, wondering if she was still being dosed with calming potions.

"You do?" Malfoy said.

"It was a gift," Harry said, glancing Lupin's way.

"I'll look at it," Malfoy said. "If you don't mind. Last year's Defense class was a waste of time."

Harry tried to look like that comment meant very little to him, which was hard with Neville snorting just two seats away.

"We can study together," Malfoy went on, after sharing a smirk with Neville. "I think I offered before."

Harry managed to get out of that with a noncommittal sort of nod.

No one else spoke to him, so Harry tried to listen in on the Weasleys' conversation at the other end of the table.

"Absolutely not," Mrs. Weasley was telling Ginny. "I'm not letting the three of you out of my sight today."

Hermione, if possible, looked even more dejected. Harry didn't think she had eaten anything; her plate looked untouched.

"_We_ didn't even do anything," grumbled Fred. He gave Ron a vicious look. "Why are we in trouble same as Ron?"

"For failing to look after him, of course!" Mrs. Weasley said, glowering at him. "I asked you two to do a simple thing...!"

Fred pushed his empty plate away in disgust. "Since when does he listen to us, do you think?"

"Do not speak to your mother that way," Mr. Weasley said, pausing in his conversation with Bill and Charlie. "Do as she says and stop complaining."

Fred looked disgusted, but he said nothing more.

"Sorry, Mum," said George. "We'll do better."

"Of course you will, George," Mrs. Weasley said, looking at him a lot more kindly than she had at Fred. "I'm counting on you."

Harry sighed a little. He missed being part of the Weasley family... even if he had never actually been a real part of it.

Finished with his food, Harry poured himself a generous amount of pumpkin juice.

"Come on, George," Fred said. "I'm done - are you?"

George stuffed the rest of his toast into his mouth and nodded.

"Come on, Ron," Fred barked at his younger brother. "Since we _must_ watch you."

"Fred Weasley..." Mr. Weasley said warningly.

Fred grabbed a sputtering Ron by the arm, making him spill his pumpkin juice down his front, and started dragging him away, George following.

"I am sorry about them," Mrs. Weasley said to everyone. "I don't know what's got into those boys."

"We're asking too much," Lupin said, shaking his head. "They're only children. There's a lot of stress -"

"All the more reason to do as they're told," Mrs. Weasley said firmly.

Harry looked up to see Snape looking at him pointedly.

He ducked his head. That was unfair of Snape. He _had_ been doing as he was told.

"Come, Hadrian," Snape said. "We should get started if we are to make any progress this morning."

Harry stood up, leaving his half-finished glass.

Malfoy had stood up without being told, so that Harry ended up following him as Snape lead them out of the Great Hall.

"Do you need me to walk with you, Draco?" Snape asked when they reached the place where Malfoy would be turning toward the Slytherin common room.

"No, thank you, sir."

"Very well. I will see you at lunch, but don't hesitate to let me know if you need anything before then. Follow me, Hadrian."

Harry followed, feeling grumpier than ever. He was sure that if Malfoy did need something, he would have no qualms about telling Snape about it, and that Snape, rather than growl and berate and accuse, would actually do something to help. Which wasn't fair at all, because... well, because...

"Why are you stopping in the middle of the corridor?" Snape groused at him. "I asked you to follow me. Was that in any way unclear?"

Harry ran to catch up with Snape, shoving his idiotic thoughts to the back of his mind to examine later. He was a little concerned that he might be losing his mind entirely, because for a moment there he had been about to suggest to himself that Snape ought to treat him better than Draco because he was Snape's son and Draco wasn't.

_Malfoy_, he told himself, outraged again by his betraying thoughts. _Malfoy_, for Merlin's sake.

What was wrong with him this morning?

Snape held open his office door, motioning Harry inside.

"Now," Snape said, barely giving Harry a chance to sit down in his usual spot on the bench in front of Snape's desk, "you say you're almost finished with the textbook?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, still not trusting himself after the things that had come out of his mouth before. "I have a chapter to go."

"Good," Snape said, a challenge in his tone. "Then you won't mind reciting Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration and its five Principal Exceptions."

Harry, to his own utter surprise, had no trouble doing that. He was quite pleased, really; all that work hadn't been for nothing, if all of that had stuck so well.

"Hmm," Snape said. "Not bad... though you're only parroting the book. Tell me, which would be easier to transfigure: a turtle into a soup tureen or a twig into a dagger?"

Harry considered the question carefully. A turtle shell was already quite similar in shape to a soup tureen, but all animal transfigurations were more difficult.

"It would be easier to transfigure a twig into a dagger, although that wouldn't be an easy transfiguration to do."

Snape nodded. "I am satisfied that you appear to have applied yourself for once -"

Harry bristled, not considering that to be any sort of praise at all, and sure that Snape didn't mean it as such.

"- so you may begin reading Intermediate Transfiguration once you've finished the remaining chapter."

"Isn't that the third year book, sir?" Harry asked, frowning.

Snape gave him a long look. "I take it back, Potter. Are you telling me you are so unfamiliar with your books that you don't realize A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration is the book still used in second year Transfiguration class?"

Harry felt his face start to burn. "It's been a while since second year," he said. Through gritted teeth, he added, "Sir."

"Nonetheless, appalling," Snape said. Then he changed the subject. "Have you been practicing wand control or basic spells?"

Harry started to nod, then shook his head mid way.

"Well, which is it?" Snape demanded impatiently. "Either you did or you did not practice."

"I -" Harry took a breath and started again. "I practiced wand movements. I didn't try any spells."

"Do so before our next meeting, then," Snape said. "Now, let's move on to Charms."

Harry let the air out of his lungs slowly. Not that it ever helped.

"I assume even simple spells give you trouble?"

"Yes," Harry said, thinking of the failed vanishing spell.

Snape lined up a few small objects on the edge of his desk. "Let us see. Levitate the feather, make the cork spin, summon the button, banish the parchment, and change the ink in that pot to red."

Harry, who wasn't even sure he could remember all of those instructions, let alone do all the spells successfully, stared at the objects glumly.

"Well?"

"Some of those are O.W.L.-level spells," Harry said.

"And did you or did you not just take your O.W.L. exams?" Snape asked with a raised eyebrow. "If it makes you feel better, the spells start with a simple first year charm and go up in difficulty. We shall see where you begin to have trouble."

Harry sighed. He took out his wand and flicked it at the feather. "_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

Snape gave him a horrible, disgusted look as he banished the burning bit of fluff and ran his finger over the burnt spot on his desk.

"Sorry," Harry said faintly.

"I suggest you keep your wand to yourself, Potter," Snape said harshly. "You wouldn't want to give the Ministry anything more to use against you -"

Harry looked up questioningly.

"- by killing someone with your criminal incompetence."

Harry looked down again.

Snape let him sit there for a few minutes, not saying anything.

"I will be speaking to McGonagall and Lupin about your wand problem," Snape said finally. "Meanwhile you may read your Charms book. It won't hurt you to review the spells and wand movements before we can move on to their practical application."

Harry nodded, slightly appeased. At least Snape wasn't trying to lay the blame squarely on his shoulders anymore.

"Go take your books to Draco and see Lupin, we're done for this morning."

"Sir?"

Snape raised an eyebrow, inviting him to continue.

"Are we going to meet again today?"

"Yes," Snape said. "I have been neglecting your Potions work. But there is nothing I wish for you to study beforehand."

Harry immediately resolved to study anyway, because he knew a trick when he heard one. "Yes, sir."

"Go on," Snape said, motioning toward the door.

Harry left without another word.

He collected his books and took them to the Slytherin common room - or tried to, anyway. He managed to circle around and walk past Snape's office twice, getting an increasingly hostile glare from Snape each time, before he found himself finally in the right place.

The common room was empty, so he dropped the books on the table and left, not caring to talk with Malfoy at all.

"Are you still here?" Snape asked, his tone dangerous, when Harry walked past his office again on his way to see Lupin.

"Er - yes," Harry said, grimacing. "Sorry, got lost."

"Go see Lupin," Snape said, frowning at him. "He has something for you."

"Yes, sir."

Curious in spite of himself, Harry quickened his pace. He reached Lupin's office in a few minutes.

Lupin answered his knock immediately. Harry just caught the last spark of green in the fireplace, and assumed Snape had firecalled Lupin about him.

His mood dropped another notch.

"Tea?" Lupin asked as he motioned Harry inside and warded the door behind him. "I'm afraid I don't have anything else to offer at the moment, but you did just have breakfast an hour ago."

"No, thank you," Harry said, sitting down somewhat stiffly in one of the chairs in front of Lupin's desk.

He looked around. Lupin really did seem to be clearing the place out; most of Umbridge's things were in various stages of being removed, some already packed in boxes.

"I hope you don't mind I volunteered you for this?"

"No, of course not," Harry said. "I'm glad to help."

Especially if it was instead of whatever Snape had in mind for him.

"Then please collect all the frilly doilies and tablecloths and... whatever _those_ are -" Lupin pointed with his wand at something white and lacy stuffed into a vase of dried flowers. "- and drop them in that box over there."

"All right," Harry said.

"Oh, be careful with that," Lupin said as Harry went to move a ceramic plate off a doily. "Put it on my desk so I can wrap it up."

Harry held up the plate questioningly. "This?"

"Yes, and I said be careful," Lupin said, frowning at him until Harry held the plate in both hands instead of one. "Those are all going to the Magical Menagerie. I just hope they can straighten them out."

Harry's mouth fell open. "Are you saying these are _real_ kittens?"

Lupin looked at him rather blankly. "Well, yes. I don't know why you're shocked."

Harry considered Umbridge, and decided he wasn't shocked at all, but it still left him with a terrible, creepy feeling. He almost couldn't look at the frolicking kitten with its garish green bow as he put the plate carefully down on Lupin's desk.

After an hour of work, the walls had been stripped down to the wallpaper and the surfaces were mostly empty.

"I forgot the curtains," Lupin said with a frustrated sigh. "Damn. And I packed up the rest of the cloth things already."

"Banish them?" Harry suggested.

Lupin looked sideways at him. "Would you like to have the honor?"

Harry wasn't going to be tricked. "I know S- Professor Snape told you what happens when I try to use my wand, so you don't need to pretend you don't know."

Lupin nodded. "Sorry, Harry. Sometimes we pretend things to spare people's feelings."

"Thanks," Harry said, not feeling very thankful at all. Most of the time, people pretended things because they didn't want to tell him the truth.

The offending curtains vanished with an easy flick of Lupin's wand.

"Let's take a break," Lupin suggested.

Harry sat down, still a little wary.

"I'm sorry to hear you're having trouble getting used to your new wand," Lupin started.

Harry sighed, resigned to whatever conversation Lupin intended to have with him.

"As soon as that's sorted, I'm going to teach you a few neat little spells. Ones that aren't taught at Hogwarts. It will be useful to show off some uncommon knowledge."

Harry nodded, understanding what Lupin was trying to do. Unfortunately, he didn't need to have a reward dangled in front of his nose to try his hardest to sort out his wand problems; his problems weren't from lack of effort.

"You were a bit late," Lupin said, changing the subject. "Did everything go all right this morning?"

"Just got lost again," Harry said, shrugging. "Once or twice," he added under his breath.

Lupin was eyeing him again. Harry instinctively braced himself.

"Are you up for a little challenge, Harry?"

"That depends," Harry said. "Does it involve telling more lies to my friends or becoming Malfoy's lapdog? Because -"

"No. No, nothing like that," Lupin cut in quickly. "In fact this would benefit you."

Harry breathed in and out slowly. He hadn't meant to get angry, but the anger seemed to always be just under the surface lately.

"All right, what do you want me to do?"

"It's a simple thing, really," Lupin said. He reached into his pocket and took out a familiar bit of parchment. "You told me before that you keep getting lost. I thought it would be nice for you to have a map of Hogwarts."

"You can't give me the Marauder's Map," Harry said, staring at the Map blankly.

"No, of course not. If fact, I can't give it to you at all; it's needed as an extra way of making sure the castle is secure. But..." Lupin waved the Map enticingly. "You could carry it when you visit your friends."

Harry took his eyes off the Map and stared at Lupin. He knew Lupin wasn't this stupid - having access to the Map once or twice a week wasn't going to solve the problem of getting lost in the dungeons - so there had to be more.

"Then," Lupin continued, "if you can convince your friends that you always keep the Map on you, they will think nothing of a similar magical object showing up in Hadrian's hands."

Harry frowned, trying to follow this reasoning.

"Hadrian," Lupin explained, slowing down as if he thought Harry was being especially thick, "has access to one of the original makers of the Marauder's Map, after all."

"I don't get it," Harry said bluntly. "Why would they be suspicious?"

"It's human nature. Your friend Hermione picks up on the small details, as you should well know by now."

Harry nodded.

"If they think Harry is carrying around the Marauder's Map, there would be no good reason in their minds for Hadrian to have a different one - if Harry and Hadrian are the same person, why wouldn't he simply use the same map he already has?"

"Oh," Harry said, for lack of anything else.

Lupin looked at him with a slightly wary expression. "Of course, there are other benefits..."

Harry had been waiting for just that. He wasn't going to believe anything was being done for his 'benefit', and Lupin could have saved himself some time and breath by not trying to convince Harry of that impossibility.

"I modified the Map," Lupin said. He waited for Harry's reaction.

"Go on," Harry said.

"I tuned it to the wizard watch I gave you. As long as you're wearing the watch, the label on the map will read 'Hadrian Snape'. If you leave the watch behind in your room, the label 'Hadrian Snape' will stay there as well, and the Map will label you 'Harry Potter'."

Harry mulled this over for a bit. "So, you're saying every time I show my friends the Map, they'll see both me and Hadrian on it?"

"Exactly!" Lupin smiled at him, looking pleased. "That's exactly it - a small, regular reinforcement, and without pulling Tonks away from her work. Meanwhile, you will have a powerful tool to help keep you safe... imagine if you had known Fudge was in the castle that morning, for example."

"All right," Harry said grudgingly. "I don't see why not."

"Excellent," Lupin said. He offered the Map to Harry. "I will set to work on the other Map, then. It will have to be a very simple one, mind you. I don't have the time to go over all the bits of research we did for it last time. Well, go on, try it out."

Harry took the Map and unfolded it. It was already activated.

He found Lupin's office on the second floor, and the dot labeled 'Hadrian Snape' inside the room.

"Leave your watch here and see what happens as you walk around the room," Lupin suggested.

Harry took his watch off. It took two or three steps away from Lupin's desk before anything happened; the label under his dot did an odd little flicker and separated into two, as if 'Hadrian Snape' and 'Harry Potter' had been stacked together, one hiding the other from view. Then the dot itself did the same.

'Harry Potter' walked around 'Hadrian Snape', paused next to 'Remus Lupin', and then moved as far away as it could without leaving the room.

"Great bit of magic, isn't it?" Lupin said, grinning. "I must admit it was pleasant to work on it again."

Harry nodded absently. Having the Map in his hand gave him a sense of comfort; he missed all his things that Lupin was keeping for him.

That thought lead to another.

Harry sneaked a quick look at Lupin to see if the amiable expression was still there. He reckoned he would ask while he and Lupin were getting along.

"Professor? I have a question... well, it's more of a request, really..."

"Yes?"

"You know my wand hasn't been working very well. My new wand."

Lupin nodded. "So I've been told. I haven't actually seen you try to use it."

"Well," Harry went on, "see, I thought - if you still have my old wand - I thought I could try it and see if it works."

Lupin frowned slightly. "I'm not sure I understand your reasoning. You already know your old wand works - you've used it for five years."

"It's just a thought I had," Harry said, shrugging a little. "I just want to try it, please."

What he wanted, of course, was to prove that it _was_ the wand's fault, even if he knew he would only be proving it to himself. He wasn't sure even solid proof would really help against Snape.

"I have no objections," Lupin said. "I will bring the wand over some time - I don't have it here now."

"Thank you," Harry said quickly, not wanting to give Lupin any time to change his mind. "That would be really great."

"Is there anything else?"

Harry hated to ruin the good mood, but there had been something nagging at him, and it would come back to bite him eventually anyway.

"There is, isn't there?" Lupin guessed. "You can tell me, Harry. I know I haven't been the best confidant for you, but I want you to come to me when you get into difficult situations."

"It's just that Sn-" Harry cut himself off, not wanting to get on Lupin's bad side before he even started, "Professor Snape, is going to take my head off, I think."

Lupin sighed. "What happened?"

"I said 'Voldemort'."

Lupin stared at him. "You said... er... Voldemort?"

"To Malfoy," Harry admitted. "I didn't mean to. I tried to say 'The Dark Lord', but it just wouldn't come out."

Lupin sighed again. "Well..."

"I said my mum told me to use his real name," Harry said defensively. "I tried to fix it."

"I won't pretend Professor Snape is going to be thrilled to hear this -"

Harry's shoulders slumped.

"But I don't think it's going to be a very big issue. I will speak with him."

"Thanks," Harry said, relieved Lupin was willing to do that much.

Lupin gave him a small smile. "Let's not end on this, Harry. We only have a few more minutes before you should go wash up for lunch, but is there anything else you need, or want...?"

Harry pursed his lips and went through his list of news.

Ron had reached a new level of dislike toward Hadrian, which wasn't at all a pleasant thing to share.

He felt helpless whenever he thought about Luna.

Hermione's outbursts scared him senseless.

Malfoy had offered to spend more time together, which was just terrible, but Lupin would likely encourage it.

The tutoring sessions were dreadful; if Snape were giving out O.W.L. results, Harry would have 'Troll' in every subject.

"Nothing?" Lupin said, sounding slightly dismayed. "Not one good thing has happened to you?"

"I..." Harry wrinkled his nose. "I like to study... I think. I just found out."

Lupin looked at him with complete incomprehension.

"Well," Harry said defensively, "that _is_ a good thing, isn't it?"

"It is," Lupin agreed. "Studying is always a good thing."

He was still looking puzzled when Harry left his office a few minutes later.


	18. Chapter 18

Harry sat on his bed, twirling his wand in his hands and staring with a frown at the wall.

He still had a half hour before lunch, which he supposed he should use to practice wand movements or study Charms and Transfiguration like Snape had told him to, but he couldn't seem to concentrate on anything. The thirteen-inch hawthorn wand with dragon heartstring core felt like dead wood in his hand, and had done so since the moment Snape had given it to him. Harry had never realized, in all his five years with his old wand, how very real the hum of magic that pulsed through it had been. He had become as used to it as breathing, and it was only when the new wand lay in his hand like a useless twig that he noticed anything missing.

No answers came to him. He didn't know much about wands and cores or any of that stuff, and definitely not much about how wands chose wizards or why one wand might not work as well as another. He knew that people could use wands belonging to others; Sirius had done so, for one, and Harry had seen Sirius performing some great bits of magic. Some wizards even picked out a new wand while they still had their old one, like Charlie Weasley had done (Ron did somehow end up with Charlie's old wand, after all), which didn't make much sense to Harry if the wand that chose the wizard at age eleven was truly the right wand. Why would a wand stop being the right one? And what about Neville, who had used his father's wand for years and been horribly hopeless at magic, and then turned right around when he got to choose a new wand that was truly his own?

The wand was honey colored and very swishy and flexible, very long and thin, with notches carved into the rough handle. It was nothing like his own wand.

He wondered whom it had belonged to previously. It didn't look anything like Snape's wand, either, and though Harry had been told it was one of Snape's spares, he just couldn't see Snape using it.

He hoped Lupin would bring his old wand very soon. There was a rather awful feeling starting to grow in his guts, though he wasn't sure just what he was dreading. He just wanted the reassurance of feeling magic humming through him again.

Without really meaning to, Harry held the wand away from himself and said, "_Lumos_!"

There was an audible crackle and a wildly flickering burst of light appeared at the end of the wand. A few stray sparks fell to the floor.

"_Nox_!" Harry said quickly.

The light sputtered for a few more seconds, then died away.

Harry sighed and shoved the wand in his pocket, out of sight.

* * *

He was one of the last ones in the Great Hall. Feeling like every eye was on him, he made his way to the only empty seat that wasn't next to either Ron or Malfoy, which unfortunately meant it was next to Snape.

"You're late," Snape said as soon as Harry was sitting down.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, taking a quick glance around to see whose attention he had attracted. "Lost again."

He was surprised to see Mrs. Weasley giving Snape a reproachful look.

"Hogwarts takes a bit of getting used to, doesn't it, dear? It's such a big place."

Harry ducked his head. "Yes, ma'am."

Ron made a sound somewhere between a growl and snort. Harry forced himself not to look at his best friend.

"It must be hard to have your father so busy when you only just got here." She seemed to be talking over Harry's head, giving Snape another disapproving frown. "Arthur and I make a special effort to give some of our time to each of our children, no matter how busy we are."

Harry decided not to say anything. He had a creepy sensation on the back of his neck, and guessed that Snape was less than pleased.

"Are you excited about starting school?" Mrs. Weasley continued, ignoring or not noticing both Snape's annoyance and Harry's lack of enthusiasm for conversation. "I assume you were taught at home?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said, covering both questions.

Mrs. Weasley seemed satisfied with this, and turned to serve more potatoes to Luna, who was sitting at her side and looking as blank as usual.

Unfortunately, Hermione decided to jump in.

"What sort of subjects did you learn, Hadrian? Have you got a wand?"

With Snape elbowing him, Harry had no choice but to launch into his rehearsed story. "Mum taught me from her old school books, so I reckon I learned some of the same things you have. I also got a lot of books this summer and I've been studying them. I have Mum's wand." He took it out of his pocket and laid on the table. "It's hawthorn with dragon heartstring."

Snape cleared his throat. "We are looking into replacing it once we're more settled here and I have the time."

Harry nodded like he knew what Snape was on about, but it was news to him. For a moment, he even entertained the thought that Snape was going to stop blaming him for not being able to produce decent spells.

"Quite right," said Charlie, who was reading the Daily Prophet over Mr. Weasley's shoulder. "A hand-me-down wand never works as well as one you choose. I had my uncle's old wand when I came to Hogwarts."

Ron made another throaty noise, probably hoping no one would mention where the wand ended up next.

"First thing I did once I had the gold was buy a new wand. Can't be working with dragons without a proper wand."

"You work with dragons?" Harry asked, trying to sound curious. In fact, he was a bit curious how Bill and Charlie had come to accept teaching jobs when they were already doing things they liked.

"Used to," Charlie said. "Taking a year or two off so I can help out where I'm needed most, same as my brother Bill here."

"Did you work with dragons, too?" Harry asked, turning to Bill.

Bill laughed. "Me? Dragons? No, I worked for Gringotts as a curse-breaker."

Mrs. Weasley beamed at her eldest son. "Prefect, Head Boy, twelve Outstandings on -"

"Mum..." Bill said, looking exasperated. "I haven't been a Hogwarts student since '89."

"Have another pastry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, looking at Bill fondly and pushing the platter toward him.

Harry couldn't help noticing three pairs of narrowed eyes watching the proceedings. Ron, Fred, and George were sitting at the opposite end of the table, heads together over a single page from the Prophet.

"I'm a Prefect," Ron muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear.

Mr. Weasley gave Ron a quelling look. "Remember what we spoke about, son."

Ron scowled into his bowl of soup.

Everyone went back to what they had been doing before taking notice of Harry, and Harry found himself ignored by everyone but Lupin, who smiled at him and passed the gravy dish.

Harry supposed he had just had his first successful conversation with the Weasleys, if one ignored the fact that Ron and the twins still hated him, that he still hadn't seen a hair of Percy, and that Mr. Weasley had not looked up from the Daily Prophet except to admonish Ron.

All he could think of were the many meals he had shared with the Weasley family before. If he were himself, rather than a stranger who had blundered into their space, he wouldn't be choking down his food in silence while everyone else talked amongst themselves like he didn't exist.

He was so lost in thought, he didn't notice that Snape was speaking to him until Lupin kicked him under the table.

"- unless you had other plans for this afternoon?"

Harry thought quickly. He had no idea what he had missed, but he supposed he would find out later, and might as well say what he was expected to. "No, no plans."

"Excellent," Snape said. His eyes were glinting, which was always a bad sign. "I will let you know the precise time when we meet for your lessons."

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

Although no one spoke to him again, Harry was careful to pay attention to the conversation around him, just in case someone did. It wouldn't do to not answer to his name twice in a row, and from the way Lupin kept looking at him, he wasn't the only one who thought so.

He tried to hear what McGonagall was saying - he heard something about the Hogwarts Express - but she was too far away. In another few minutes, she and Bill and Charlie picked up their coffee mugs and excused themselves to the staff room.

Hermione and Ginny were talking about house-elves, but that didn't interest him now that he knew Dobby was still at Hogwarts.

He turned his attention to his left, where Neville and Malfoy were sitting.

"- probably wilted or dead by now. Do you want them?"

"I'll take a look," Neville said, looking interested. "Plants are hardier than people give them credit for. Er... how did you end up with plants in your trunk?"

Malfoy shrugged. "It's all junk in there. I didn't pack it. Someone just threw things in from all over the manor."

"Oh."

"I'd rather have my books and clothes than what I got." Malfoy suddenly looked at Harry, catching him listening in to the conversation. "Thanks for the books, Hadrian. I've left them in the common room if you need them back."

"You're welcome," Harry said. "I won't need them back for a while yet."

Across the table, Ron whispered something to Fred and George, and they all sniggered, sneering at Harry.

Harry wondered if Ron had somehow learned that Harry was revising first year spells. Harry had told Malfoy, and he doubted Malfoy had told anyone, but maybe Snape or Lupin had told Mr. or Mrs. Weasley...

Or maybe Harry was just being paranoid.

"I still think we could study together," Malfoy went on. "We've nothing else to do right now."

Lupin started staring at Harry meaningfully.

Harry sighed, swallowing his annoyance. "Sure, maybe sometime we can."

Lupin frowned at him.

"It sounds like a good idea," Harry added resignedly. It looked like he would be spending more time with Malfoy whether he wanted to or not.

"We should have a study group," Hermione suddenly put in. "Like we had the D.A. last year, but for all the subjects. We could be well ahead by the time classes start up again."

Neville was nodding enthusiastically by the time Harry sneaked a look at Lupin, whose frown was creeping toward a glare the longer Harry stayed silent.

"You can't start up the D.A.!" Ron exclaimed in outrage. "You can't have _them_ -"

Ron didn't get to finish, because Mr. Weasley caught him under the arm and yanked him out of his seat.

"Let's have another talk, Ron," Mr. Weasley said. To the table at large, he added, "Excuse us."

Ron was quickly turning beet red; he was like an orange-topped tomato by the time he and Mr. Weasley had got to the Great Hall doors.

Mrs. Weasley heaved a sigh. "I am sorry about Ron..."

"No need, Molly," Lupin said lightly. He was still keeping his eyes on Harry, however, and Harry didn't miss the worry line that had appeared between his brows. "We all understand the strain -"

"It's no excuse," Mrs. Weasley cut in. "He is not a little child anymore and this mood he's in is childish and inconsiderate of everyone around him. He doesn't realize just how lucky our family has been."

Harry remembered Ginny's words and looked at her. She had her head down, hair falling over her face, and she was starting to be as red as Ron.

"I know he worries about Harry," Mrs. Weasley continued, apparently unaware that the whole table had fallen silent. "I know he feels shut in. But you would think, from the way he's acting, he has the world's problems on his shoulders. And you two -!" She turned on the twins, who shrank away from her. "Encouraging him! Your father and I asked you to do your part and have you?"

"Sorry Mum," George said placatingly. "We'll do better."

Fred nodded.

"Hrmph!" Mrs. Weasley reached for a clean plate and started piling food on it with jerky, irritated movements. "Come along upstairs if all of you've finished eating. I'll see that you're kept busy for the afternoon."

Fred and George exchanged a look. Fred crammed a biscuit in his mouth and washed it down with the last of his pumpkin juice.

"Yes, Mum," George said.

Carrying the plate - Harry guessed for Percy - and leading Luna by the hand, Mrs. Weasley headed for the door with Fred, George, and Hermione following.

"I'd better go," Neville said, pushing back his chair. He looked rather helplessly between Mrs. Weasley and Malfoy. "I do want to see the plants though..."

"Oh, Molly!" Lupin called after Mrs. Weasley. "Neville will stay and help me, if you don't mind."

"Of course," Mrs. Weasley called back. "But don't overexert yourselves - don't forget you've both been ill."

"I'll send him up in an hour or so. Don't worry about a thing, Molly."

He winked at Neville, who smiled.

"Thanks, Professor Lupin."

"You're welcome, Neville. If you need to get into the greenhouses, there's a spare set of keys in the shed behind Greenhouse One."

"Am I allowed?" Neville asked, looking surprised. "Professor Sprout might not have had a chance to set watering and weeding spells, and I might be able to salvage some of the plants."

Lupin smiled, but there was that worry line again. "Yes, that would be helpful, but like Molly said, don't overexert yourself."

"I won't," Neville said quickly. "Working in the greenhouses is very relaxing for me and... and I think I could help."

"Go on, then," Lupin said. "I'll speak with Molly and see if we can come to some arrangement."

Neville, looking happier than Harry had seen him in a long time, practically trotted off toward the dungeons with Malfoy.

Harry, feeling a stab of jealousy, turned his attention to his almost empty plate.

He wished he had problems that were so easily solved. Why was it that Lupin could offer Neville a quick solution with no strings attached, but any time Harry needed a bit of help all he seemed to get were more problems?

He suddenly realized that he, Snape, and Lupin were the only ones left at the table.

Snape had the Daily Prophet and was pointing something out to Lupin. The back of the paper had a large picture of a simpering Fudge.

He drank the last of his pumpkin juice and pushed the empty glass and plate away.

"I would say things are improving, wouldn't you?" Lupin asked him, looking up from the paper.

Harry just looked at him. He didn't think anything was improving. Certainly not Ron's attitude toward Hadrian. Maybe Lupin meant how Malfoy was now dead-set on having Hadrian as his best friend and study partner, in which case Harry definitely did not see an improvement.

Lupin's smile slid off his face and a bit of reproach crept in. "Part of success in any endeavor is our own attitude. We bring that to every friendship and acquaintance."

Harry got the message. Lupin didn't like his attitude, more or less how Mrs. Weasley didn't like Ron's. Trust Lupin to think that if Harry would just be cheerful and friendly, all his problems would magically vanish. Lupin, after all, seemed to think all that was necessary was to plaster on a smile and look mild and harmless, and people would forgive anything, including being a werewolf.

"I doubt the Weasley boy will come around even if Hadrian makes a fool of himself groveling for his friendship."

Harry's eyes darted in Snape's direction. Had Snape just defended him?

"Yes, well," Lupin said, looking at Snape with some annoyance, "I'm sure hiding in the dungeons and stalking around with a scowl on his face isn't going to do much good, either."

Snape lowered the Daily Prophet to the table with a thump. He looked at Lupin with narrowed eyes.

Harry looked from one to the other uncomfortably.

"Really, Lupin? Has it not occurred to you that I would want my son to cultivate friendships that don't depend on how willing he is to debase himself for the sake of making others comfortable?"

Lupin flushed. "I never -"

Snape sneered at him. "No? Then you admit everything your friends did while you watched like a spineless, gutless coward was in fact done with your blessing?"

Harry involuntarily shrank in his chair, wishing he had some way of escaping. Snape looked about a moment from going for Lupin's throat.

"I don't know how we got on this subject," Lupin snapped. "I was going to say I never intended to suggest _your son_ should be anything but himself -"

"_My son_," Snape snarled, "may want to 'stalk around with a scowl on his face' as you so graciously put it, and maybe I see nothing wrong with that!"

"Uh..." Harry began. Lupin and Snape had clearly forgotten that he was still there, not to mention that he _wasn't Snape's son_.

"Be silent," Snape snapped at him. "I've had my fill of petulant, whinging, disobedient children."

Lupin barked out a laugh. "Molly got to you, didn't she? Merlin, I never would have thought that's all it would take."

"I'm just going to go," Harry suggested quietly. He reckoned it was another minute or two before curses started flying. "I have work -"

"You will see me in my office in one hour," Snape told him through clenched teeth, not breaking his glare at Lupin.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, sliding from his chair.

He escaped to the safety of the Entrance Hall, only slowing down when he reached the dungeon stairwell.

"What the hell is that?"

Harry stopped short, face to face with Malfoy and Neville. Neville was holding a tray with some small plant pots, and was biting his lower lip nervously.

"Dunno," Harry said, feeling deflated.

Malfoy continued to study him, tilting his head to one side. "I heard Lupin was with Black before. That's Sirius Black, Potter's godfather."

Harry tried to look blank while his heart dropped into his stomach, making him think he was about to lose everything he had just eaten.

"He's dead, though," Malfoy said. "I guess people move on. I just never would have thought Snape -" Malfoy paused. "Your father. I never thought he'd go for someone like Lupin."

Harry managed to find it in himself to defend Lupin. "I like Lupin. I told you that."

Behind Malfoy, Neville made a noise of agreement.

Malfoy shrugged. "It has nothing to do with liking him. They're odd together and they don't get along."

Harry privately thought that _no one_ could get along with Snape, and if Snape waited around for someone he could get along with, he would die alone. This, of course, didn't stop Harry from agreeing with Malfoy's assessment.

"Want to come to the greenhouses with us?" Malfoy offered amiably. "We're having a look around and planting these." He motioned at the plants Neville was carrying. "I never much cared for Herbology, but I could use some sun and fresh air."

Snape and Lupin's raised voices were still coming from the direction of the Great Hall.

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. "All right."

He could use some sun and fresh air.

Malfoy looked in the direction of the Great Hall and rolled his eyes. "How about we go around the long way?"

Without waiting for an answer, he headed the opposite way, toward the corridor leading to the courtyard.

"Do you want me to carry some of those?" Harry asked Neville. Some of the pots were teetering on the edge of the tray.

"If you can take those two on the end, please," Neville said.

They headed after Malfoy, who had stopped at the corner and looked back impatiently.

There was no wind at all and the air was a bit muggy - not quite the fresh air Harry had been hoping for - but the sun was shining and felt warm on his face and arms. They were taking the long way around the castle, walking across overgrown grass than swished against their ankles. It wasn't at all unpleasant, and Harry rather wished he had thought of going out before. Really, he hadn't been outside since the Dursleys.

They came to the greenhouses and Neville lead them around to the back. There was a small stone building, which Harry guessed was the shed.

"Try the door, Draco," Neville said. "Our hands are full."

Malfoy yanked on the door, then took out his wand. "_Alohomora_!"

Enough sunlight flooded through the shed doorway for Harry to see that it was full of gardening tools, empty pots, sacks of soil and fertilizer, and a great barrel full of what looked like wood chips. The shed was much larger on inside than the outside would have suggested.

Malfoy reached for a ring of large keys, each of which had a different plant design.

"The one with the daisies will open Greenhouse One," Neville said. "Let's begin there."

Malfoy unlocked the greenhouse door and they went in.

Harry gasped as the wave of heat enveloped him.

"Leave the door open," Neville said. "It's awfully stuffy here."

Malfoy pushed a rock with his foot to prop open the door.

"You can wait outside, Draco."

"That's all right," Malfoy said in the tone of a martyr. "Someone has to make sure you two don't get strangled by Devil's Snare... or something." He looked around and found a large overturned pot to sit on. "That's probably the only thing left alive in this place."

Neville pursed his lips, looking around with a frown.

Harry thought Malfoy might be right. There was a row of plants right in front of him, all wilted and brown and lying across the dry soil of their pots. Behind them, a row of pots held only blackened, leafless twigs.

"Devil's Snare is in Greenhouse Three, and it wouldn't have survived long in the sun and heat," Neville said finally. He sighed. "You're right, though. There's not much left alive."

Harry went over to the table and put down the two pots he had been carrying. There were gloves and sets of gardening tools laid out, enough for at least twenty students, as though the last Herbology class had been canceled and no one had entered the greenhouses since then.

"I'm going to plant these, and then prune those alihotsy shrubs," Neville said. He was already pulling on gloves.

"Do you want me to do anything?" Harry asked. He was decent in Herbology, and then there was all the gardening he had done for the Dursleys.

Neville glanced sideways at him. "If you like. You can carry some of these dead plants out to the compost heap."

Harry nodded and picked up three of the pots with dead, wilted plants.

"Honestly," Malfoy muttered as Harry passed him on his way out of the greenhouse.

Harry heard crunching footsteps behind him and turned to see Malfoy levitating a long string of pots, holding his wand out at his side in an easy, careless way.

It made his stomach twist.

"Thanks," he said grudgingly. He supposed it was a minor miracle Malfoy wanted to help at all.

Malfoy grinned. "Watch."

He flicked his wand several times and each of the floating pots turned upside down over the compost heap, dumping their contents.

Malfoy swished his wand in a sweeping motion, and the pots floated to the ground and stacked themselves in a more or less tidy tower.

"I would have cleaned them," Malfoy said pompously, "but they're only going to get more dirt in them sooner or later, so why bother?"

Harry nodded, letting out a breath slowly. It wasn't Malfoy's fault Harry's wand wouldn't even cooperate enough for a lousy _Lumos_.

He emptied his own pots and started to carry them back to the greenhouse. Malfoy, with his floating tower, followed.

Neville had already re-potted the plants into larger pots and placed them in a long row. He was watering each one carefully, his nose as well as his wand almost touching the soil.

"There," he said as Harry and Malfoy came in. "I've set some watering spells. I think they will recover. This vioala cryana is extremely rare - it's extinct in the wild and only a few herbologists in Europe cultivate it. Hogwarts never had any."

Harry looked at the wilted plant. It looked dead to him.

"If I had more time," Neville went on, "I would try to save those Chocolate Cosmos. They're very nearly extinct, too, and I do like them..." He sighed heavily. "But I want to check the other greenhouses before we go back."

They made a round of the other greenhouses, which were in the same condition as Greenhouse One. Neville looked distinctly glum by the time they were walking back to the castle.

"Maybe you can do more when you go back next time," Harry said, trying to cheer him up. "One day isn't going to make much difference now."

Neville nodded. "If Mrs. Weasley agrees I can go."

"I'm sure she will."

The Entrance Hall was empty and silent. They stopped at the bottom of the main staircase.

Neville fidgeted with something in his pocket, looking from Harry to Malfoy nervously. "Listen... I'm having a birthday tea on the 30th, and I was wondering..." He pulled out two slightly wrinkled envelopes. "I was wondering if you two would come?"

Harry accepted the envelope Neville held out to him. It was the same heavy parchment as Hogwarts letters usually came in, and in fact Harry could see that the Hogwarts crest had been badly spelled off, leaving a visible imprint in the corner. In the center of the envelope was written 'Hadrian' in black ink and underlined with a red flourish.

"You don't need to bring anything," Neville added quickly. "We're only having tea and cake and maybe we can have it outdoors if the weather is nice."

"Is Weasley going to be there?" Malfoy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course," Neville said, reddening slightly. "He's my friend. I'm inviting all my friends."

"Well, all right," Malfoy said. "I suppose I'll go..." He glanced at Harry. "If Hadrian will."

"I will," Harry said.

Too late, he realized this meant he wouldn't be able to come as himself.

"Great!" Neville said. "Well, I'll see you!"

Neville practically flew up the staircase, leaving Harry with Malfoy.

"Didn't your father want to see you?" Malfoy said. He was stuffing Neville's invitation, still unopened, into his pocket.

"Yeah," Harry said. He looked at his watch. He was just about to be late. "Thanks."

They walked as far as Snape's office together. Malfoy went on toward the Slytherin common room, while Harry contemplated Snape's closed office door.

He was just about to knock when the door opened and Hermione backed out.

"Thank you, Professor. Oh -!" She turned and saw Harry, whom she had almost walked into. "Here's Hadrian."

"Come in, Hadrian," Snape said.

Harry squeezed past Hermione, who was still lingering uncertainly.

"Close the door."

Harry shut the door, but not before he saw Hermione heading the wrong way; deeper into the dungeons rather than toward the stairs.

"You're late," Snape said, his eyes raking Harry over, no doubt noticing the stains on his clothes where he had carelessly wiped his hands after handling the plant pots. "Where were you?"

"Out in the greenhouses with Neville and Malfoy."

"Go wash up," Snape said, frowning at him. "Bring your clothes and the empty goblets, too. I should have had you bring them this morning."

Harry nodded and escaped back into the corridor.

When he was at his own door, his ears caught the sound of voices, one of them female and very familiar.

Everything Snape wanted was already packed into a sack, so Harry reckoned he had a bit of time. He pulled on his robes to cover his stained shirt and took less than a minute to wash the worst off his hands under hot water. Then, throwing the Invisibility Cloak around himself, he left his room and followed the sound of the voices.

"- Weasley finds out you're meeting me in broom cupboards and -"

"I would have come to your common room if I knew how to find it. I don't know why we can't just talk like normal people and have to sneak around like we have something to hide."

Before Harry could manage to do much more than reign in his urge to rip off his Cloak and demand what was going on, Malfoy and Hermione disappeared around the corner.

Harry wanted to follow them, but he was out of time.

He took a moment to look inside the open doorway from which Hermione and Malfoy had appeared.

The room was dusty and devoid of any useable furniture; there were several broken chairs stacked together in a corner, a lopsided potions table that still had the remnants of a melted cauldron attached to its burnt surface, and a large scenic painting with a damaged frame leaning against a wall. There were no brooms or cleaning supplies, and the room didn't look like it served any purpose other than to have useless and broken things put in it and forgotten about.

By the time Harry got back to Snape's office, he had already put the room out of his mind.

Snape looked up from his book and fixed him with an irritated look.

"Sorry," Harry said automatically. He put the sack on Snape's desk. "That's everything."

Snape was still staring at him. Out of habit, Harry averted his eyes.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

"No, sir," Harry said quickly, right before thinking of something he did, in fact, need to tell Snape. "Er..."

Snape waited.

"Er... Neville just invited me and Malfoy to his birthday tea." Harry took the invitation out of his pocket and laid it on Snape's desk. "I already accepted."

Snape spared the envelope only a brief glance. "I have no interest in organizing your social life for you."

"I just meant... I won't be able to go as me. I thought that was important for you to know."

"Lupin may be more interested in that sort of thing," Snape said dismissively. "He's been trying to organize the birthday bash of the century -"

"For Neville?" Harry asked, confused.

Snape stared at him.

"Oh," Harry said, feeling very stupid. For him, obviously. Neville's birthday was on the 30th; his was the next day.

"I don't know that you will be able to attend that, either," Snape said. He paused, waiting for Harry's reaction. "There are many things to consider."

Harry didn't know how he felt about it. He had more or less managed to forget his birthday was approaching. "That's all right..."

Snape must have been expecting him to cause a scene, because he didn't say anything for a long time.

"Maybe I could have a birthday tea like Neville, and invite everyone to that," Harry said. "It's only fair if Neville invited me."

Snape looked at him like he had lost his mind. "Potter, I just said -"

"Hadrian!" Harry said, reddening. "I meant Hadrian, not me. Hadrian's birthday is on the 1st, so I though..."

Snape huffed irritably. "I suppose that would be acceptable. Ask Lupin to plan it."

"Yes, sir," Harry said. He tried to reign in the compulsion to keep talking. For some odd reason, he was wanting to ask Snape any number of inane things.

"What is it?" Snape asked after a few moments, frowning at him.

"Nothing," Harry said hurriedly, before his tongue could run away with him.

"There's obviously something."

Harry was grateful that at that very moment there came a knock on the door.

"I'll get it!"

Snape frowned at him again, his head tilting slightly to one side, like Harry was a puzzle to be solved.

Harry pulled the door open.

Lupin smiled at him. "Hello Hadrian. Severus. Am I late?"

"No, come in," Snape said.

Harry got out of the way and returned to his place on the bench in front of Snape's desk.

"What's all this?" Lupin asked. He reached for a book from a stack on Snape's desk. "A little light reading?"

Snape's hand flew out and grabbed Lupin's wrist before he could touch the book. "Don't. These are from the Malfoy library and I won't be responsible for your missing fingers."

"Hmm," Lupin said. "Well, if you find anything interesting..."

For some reason, Snape's face paled several shades. He looked positively ill.

Lupin didn't notice. He had picked up Neville's invitation. "What's this, Harry?"

"I was invited to Neville's birthday tea."

Lupin blinked at him. "I see. Well, if you need a reason to decline -"

"I already accepted," Harry said, feeling annoyed and not quite knowing why. "I want to go."

"All right," Lupin said placatingly. "I just thought -"

"We've already discussed it, Lupin," Snape put in. "He will go to the tea and he won't be going anywhere on the 31st, but he may have a tea for his August 1st birthday."

Harry looked from Lupin to Snape with growing irritation. For someone who didn't intend to plan his social life for him, Snape was very sure of Harry's social schedule.

"Is that agreeable to you?" Lupin asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Harry said. Well, it was, he told himself firmly. He was the one who had suggested it. There was no reason to be annoyed about it now. "That's fine with me."

"All right," Lupin said, still looking at him doubtfully. "I will give you envelopes and parchment if you would like to write out some invitations."

Snape snorted. "Are invitations necessary when they see each other at every meal? It's wasteful."

"It's only polite," Lupin countered. "It also gives people a chance to decline without doing so face to face."

"I'm sure Weasley will have no trouble declining -"

"Severus," Lupin said, "I don't think it's appropriate to shove your own insecurities on him."

Snape's expression turned wrathful. Harry was certain he was about to witness part two of the argument that had begun over lunch.

"Here -" Lupin held out Neville's invitation to Harry. "Don't forget to respond properly."

Harry took the invitation back and stuffed it in his pocket.

"Should we get on to what we're really here for?" Lupin said. "I brought Harry's wand."

Harry, flip-flopping from apprehension to confusion, watched as Lupin took a paper-wrapped package out of his pocket and unwrapped it carefully. Harry's old wand was inside.

By the time Harry looked up, Snape had got himself together and no longer looked like he was a few moments away from committing murder.

"Do you have your wand with you?" Lupin asked Harry.

"Yes." He pulled it out. His hand was itching to hold his old wand instead.

"Good. We will do a simple experiment. First you will attempt a spell with the new wand, then the same spell with your old wand. That should tell us how to proceed."

Harry, who had been the one to ask Lupin for his old wand in the first place, was now wishing he had never suggested it. He had wanted to have it alone in the privacy of his room, not in front of Lupin and Snape like it was some sort of test.

"Severus, do you have some feathers or old quills? I don't want to conjure something in case it throws off the accuracy."

Snape reached into a desk drawer and produced several small feathers, which he pushed across the desk so that they lay in a row in front of Harry.

Harry raised his wand.

"Hold on," Lupin said. He took out his own wand. "Ready, Severus?"

Harry looked at Lupin questioningly. "Why...?"

"We will just cast a simple monitoring spell," Lupin said with a reassuring smile. "Nothing to worry about. Go ahead and try levitating the feathers one at a time. Don't worry if anything does wrong. Just keep casting until you've tried them all."

Harry, remembering the fire he had started the last time, glanced at Snape and was not at all reassured by the thin-lipped expression on his face.

"Go on," Lupin urged again.

Harry took a breath and held it for a moment.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

The feather blasted off Snape's desk, leaving a scorch mark.

Harry, though he jerked back at the explosion, aimed for the next feather in line. "_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

The feather burst into flames.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

More flames.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

Another scorch mark on Snape's desk... Harry was afraid to look at Snape.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

Flames.

That had been the last one. A bit of fluff floated down and landed on the back of Harry's hand.

"Good," Lupin said, his voice slightly strained. "That should be enough."

Harry watched Lupin and Snape exchange a look.

"Well, let's try it with your old wand, shall we?" Lupin said, his usual smile back. "Let me take that one. You can't be holding both at the same time, or it could affect the spell in unpredictable ways."

Harry handed Lupin the hawthorn wand and took his old one.

He willed it to feel just like it used to.

It just lay in his hand.

Harry swallowed.

"Something wrong?" Lupin asked.

Snape was watching Harry closely, eyes slightly narrowed. Analyzing him.

It was enough to make Harry sit up straight and lift his chin. "No, nothing's wrong."

Of course, something was. The wand felt dead.

"More feathers, Severus?"

Harry swallowed again as he watched Snape lay out the feathers in front of him. His stomach clenched.

"Go ahead," Lupin said. "Just like before."

Harry aimed his wand, willing his hand not to shake.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

The feather rose, wobbly and vibrating, and exploded in flames.

"Again," Lupin said when a moment passed and Harry hadn't been able to get himself to cast the spell again. "Keep going."

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

A small crack appeared on Snape's desk where the next feather had been; Harry didn't see what had happened to the feather itself.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

Flames.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

Another short, wobbly flight, ending in flames.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

The last feather took flight across Snape's desk, and Snape doused it with water before anything else could happen. The feather, wet and pathetic, lay on top of an old Daily Prophet.

"Interesting," Lupin said in a falsely calm tone.

Harry looked at him with a scowl.

"Sorry," Lupin said. He managed to sound apologetic. "I realize this must be distressing."

Harry had to swallow again, then gasped for breath. He couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs.

"Are you all right?" Lupin asked, concerned. He leaned toward Harry, one hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I -" Harry's thoughts leaped wildly around. When was the last time he had used magic? Before leaving Hogwarts? While packing? On the train? Or was the last time at the Ministry of Magic? "I - I'm not - Malfoy said -"

"What?" Lupin demanded, shaking him slightly. "What is it, Harry?"

There was a sound of clinking glass, and Lupin suddenly had a small vial in his hand.

"No, I _don't_ want a calming draught!" Harry bellowed, pulling himself together. "I'm fine!"

Lupin put the potion down on Snape's desk. "Then tell us what's wrong."

"I just can't remember the last time I used magic and not had it go wrong," Harry said. His breath was still catching in his throat, but he was slightly calmer... and embarrassed he had made a fool of himself again. "I think it might have started when Vol-" He sneaked a look at Snape, but Snape didn't react. "When Voldemort died."

"Hmm," Lupin said, looking at Snape as though he expected Snape to have the answers.

"You don't think...? I told Malfoy I was working on first year spells and he asked if I was magical..." Harry shook his head, feeling stupid. "I don't know why I even thought of that now."

"Of course you still have your magic," Lupin said, patting him on the shoulder. "All we observed is that your magic is in a state of confusion and lacks focus. There was no evidence it had lost strength."

"Really?" Harry asked suspiciously, glancing at Snape in case what Lupin said and Snape thought were going to be two different things.

"Really," Lupin said firmly.

Harry watched as Lupin and Snape exchanged another meaningful look.

"Why don't you go wash up, Harry?" Lupin suggested pleasantly, as though he really thought Harry was thick enough not to notice he was being dismissed so they could talk about him or things they didn't think he should know about. "You have some soot on you. You do remember you agreed to have tea with Professor Snape and Draco today, don't you?"

Harry opened his mouth in protest, then closed it. So _that_ was what he had agreed to at lunch.

Without a word, Harry put his old wand down on Snape's desk, took the one Lupin held out to him, and left Snape's office.

As soon as he was in the corridor he ducked into an empty room and pulled his Invisibility Cloak out of his pocket, throwing it around himself. A moment later he was back at Snape's door with his ear pressed to it.

"- with the formula?"

"I could have missed something," Snape said. "It's a complicated set of charms."

"He hasn't been acting quite himself lately -"

"I have noticed."

"I thought he might just be settling down a bit -"

Snape snorted.

"I hope we aren't about to be faced with something we're unprepared for. Harry -"

Harry's ear stung as a silencing charm rippled through the door, making him leap back.

With a huff of frustration, he turned on his heel and stalked toward his room.

A few minutes later he was sitting on his bed with Neville's invitation in front of him, trying to put everything out of his mind before he really did need a calming draught.

The invitation was almost comical in its formality. He tried reading it aloud in a snooty voice.

"_Mr. Neville Longbottom would like to extend his cordial invitation_..." Harry snorted. "_Fine teas will be brewed and delicate finger sandwiches shall be enjoyed_..."

He hoped Lupin didn't think he was going to write anything like that on his own invitations.

He wrote 'Yes' on the line after the question, 'Will you attend?', and wrote his name on the bottom of the parchment.

It was the first time he had ever written his new name, and he paused to contemplate it.

But that just brought back the question of what might be wrong with him, and why after just a few days as Hadrian Snape he seemed to be losing his true self.

Pushing the invitation away, he sprawled on his back on the bed and closed his eyes against the unwanted thoughts.


	19. Chapter 19

Harry had just about decided he was bored of staring at the ceiling when the door swung open and Snape walked in without so much as a knock.

"Hey -" Harry started, sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed.

Snape stopped in the center of the room and fixed him with an icy look.

Harry let the rest of his outraged exclamation come out as a huff of annoyance. He had forgotten to change the password.

"Are you ready?" Snape asked, his eyes trailing over Harry's disheveled hair, wrinkled robes, filthy bedspread, and all the way down to the boots he had tramped through the greenhouses in.

"Er..." Harry, following Snape's gaze, felt his ears start to burn. "Almost."

Snape pushed the door shut with considerable force, not even bothering to use his wand.

Harry instinctively braced himself.

"In the future," Snape said in a tightly controlled tone, "you will keep your room clean and tidy. Beds are not for wallowing in during daylight hours."

Harry nodded, his throat too constricted to risk saying anything.

"You will keep your clothing in good condition - you will not be getting a new wardrobe any time soon." Snape's eyes again landed on the muddy boots, but he wrenched them away. "It is fortunate I came to fetch you first. We will be waiting for you in the courtyard in ten minutes. Do attempt to look presentable."

Without waiting for Harry's answer, Snape pulled the door open and walked out.

After a moment, Harry allowed himself to take a full breath. He straightened his hunched, aching shoulders and slowly stood up.

Really, he had been expecting worse, and Snape was right not to find dirty boots on a clean bedspread the least bit acceptable. If Harry hadn't been upset from the fiasco with the wands, he never would have done such a thing. Years with the Dursleys and never having nice things had taught him to take care of what he did have. Hadn't he kept every small thing ever given to him, no matter if it were used up or broken? His old trunk had been filled up with all the things he couldn't part with.

He pulled off his robes, only to be reminded that he had put them on to cover his stained shirt. He had to change that, too.

As an afterthought, he put on one of the black, silky ties that had come with the rest of his new clothes and which he hadn't thought he would have any use for.

He had just enough time to give his hands another quick scrub under hot water, tie his hair back to disguise the tangle it had somehow developed, and head out the door.

He almost ran into Lupin.

"You look nice, Hadrian," Lupin said, looking him over with a slightly surprised expression. "Walk with me?"

"Sure," Harry said.

"I'm putting together everything you will need to make up invitations to your birthday tea. Parchment, envelopes... that sort of thing."

"Thank you," Harry said, a bit stiffly. "I appreciate it."

"Do you need help with the wording?"

"I can manage."

"All right," Lupin said. "I'll leave everything with your dad. You will be meeting for another tutoring session later today, am I correct?"

"Yes, that's right," Harry said, trying to push back an odd sensation of being somehow disconnected from himself, as though he were standing off to the side, watching himself walking down the corridor at Lupin's side. He told himself it was just the way Lupin said _dad_ that made him feel this way. "For Potions."

"Are you making progress?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess."

He could feel Lupin studying him, but Lupin didn't say anything more until they were emerging from the dungeon stairwell and into the Entrance Hall.

"If you wouldn't mind helping again, I think my office will be ready for the new year. After your Potions lesson, perhaps?"

Harry started to nod, then spotted the Weasley twins giving him and Lupin a suspicious look from the staff room doorway.

"Yes, Professor," Harry said. "I would be glad to help."

"Thank you," Lupin said. "Well, enjoy your time with your dad. You both deserve some downtime. I will see you at dinner."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, ignoring the twins as he walked past the staff room while Lupin went inside.

Keeping his back very straight and his head held high, Harry continued toward the courtyard. By the time he got to the door and looked back, the staff room door was closed and there was no one around.

Trying to maintain his posture, even though he felt more deflated with each step he took, Harry pushed open the door to the courtyard and stepped out into the sunshine.

Blinking in the bright light - Harry decided he really did need to spend more time outdoors and out of the gloomy dungeons - he looked around and saw the table that had been set up in the shade of the stone arches, away from the open green. Snape and Malfoy were already sitting, and both were looking at him.

With a small sigh, Harry headed over to the table. With just a little more effort, he even managed to smile.

"Hadrian," Snape said, inclining his head. "Late as always. Come sit down."

Harry sat down, feeling about as comfortable as a worm on a hook. Of course Snape _couldn't_ go without a dig at him. So what if he had been late a few times? It wasn't like he was doing it out of spite.

At least the food was decent; Harry perked up a little at the sight of pumpkin pastries, scones, rice pudding, jam doughnuts, and custard tarts. The meals at Hogwarts so far had been much simpler than he was used to, which he thought was either because it was summer and there were so few people staying at Hogwarts, or because there weren't many house-elves left.

Snape poured tea into their cups, starting with Harry's.

"We were just discussing your invitation to Neville Longbottom's birthday tea," Snape said conversationally. He looked up at Harry for a brief moment, which Harry would have missed if he hadn't been staring right at Snape. "Have you decided if you will attend?"

"I already told Neville I would," Harry said. He accepted his teacup and added milk and several lumps of sugar. "I would want him to attend mine."

Malfoy looked interested. "Is your birthday soon? Mine passed - it was June the fifth."

"The first of August," Harry said. "I'm having a tea, same as Neville."

"Am I invited?" Malfoy asked, a surprisingly wary tone creeping into his voice.

"Of course," Harry said, looking down into his tea so he wouldn't have to look at Malfoy. "I'm inviting everyone and they can decide if they want to come or not."

"I'll come," Malfoy said, dropping sugar into his tea and sounding like himself again. "Now if Potter has a party, that will be three in a row."

Harry looked up, confused and slightly irritated without really knowing why. "Huh?"

Snape gave him a warning look.

"Potter's birthday is on the 31st," Malfoy explained. "I don't know if you know this, but he's been here before and he's friends with the Weasleys and all the rest. It would be just like him to have a party here, with all his friends."

Harry chewed on this for a minute, annoyed that anyone - even Malfoy who had never liked him - thought a grandiose party was his way of celebrating his birthdays, and even more irritated by the thought that Malfoy apparently expected an invitation to Harry's party if he did have one. Come to think of it, Snape had mentioned Lupin planning a party for Harry, which rather suggested that Malfoy wasn't alone in thinking Harry wanted to be made a big fuss over.

"Hmm," Harry said, when he realized the silence had stretched and Snape was looking daggers at him again. He took a gulp of his too-hot tea and spent the next minute trying not to choke.

"Have you decided on an answer for your father, Draco?" Snape asked, giving Harry one final withering look before turning his attention to Malfoy.

Malfoy was finding his tea very interesting. Harry thought it had to be more sugar than tea now, but Malfoy stirred in more.

"He will only wait so long," Snape continued. "Your silence will have the opposite result if you do not wish to see him."

"Fine, I'll write something," Malfoy mumbled. "But I'm not going anywhere." He looked up worriedly, letting his spoon clatter in his teacup. "You don't really think he would come here, do you?"

"I don't believe he has any reason to," Snape said carefully. "He has any number of more pressing matters, and he knows you are safe here."

Malfoy nodded and went back to stirring his tea.

"Why -" Harry began before catching himself. "Never mind."

Snape looked his way, which made Harry even more sorry about opening his mouth.

"Draco is my godson," Snape said after a moment. "I became his guardian in the time between his mother leaving the country and his father's release from Azkaban. As he was in Ministry custody at the time, I was not notified -"

Malfoy made an odd noise, which he drowned by gulping his tea.

Snape patted Malfoy on the arm. "Many families were leaving or going into hiding at the time. I had no reason to think you hadn't gone with your mother, Draco."

Malfoy nodded without raising his head.

They drank their tea in silence for a while.

"How did you get guardianship of Potter, sir?" Malfoy asked suddenly. "If you don't mind my asking."

Harry looked up so fast his neck cracked audibly. Fortunately Snape had set down his teacup on the saucer at the same time.

"Same way," Snape said, giving Harry a mistrustful look as if expecting him to throw a fit then and there.

Malfoy frowned. "You're _Potter's_ godfather?" He bit a piece off a scone and frowned some more. "Since when?"

"I am not Potter's godfather," Snape said, still looking at Harry. "However, I was mentioned in his parents' will. As you know, the Potters went into hiding because they believed themselves to be in danger..."

Malfoy nodded. Harry was too busy _not breathing_ to do the same.

"They named four potential guardians for their child. The first was Sirius Black, who was the godfather. The second were the Longbottoms, parents of Neville Longbottom."

Harry swallowed. He hadn't known that. If Neville's parents hadn't been attacked, would he and Neville have grown up together?

"The third was Albus Dumbledore, who chose to place the child with maternal relatives." Snape paused. "Muggles, as you know. Until his death, Dumbledore had full control over Potter's affairs. At his death, those rights went to me."

"Oh," Malfoy said, still frowning. "Just like that?"

"Not without a number of hearings and other delays," Snape said. He was still watching Harry, but was apparently somewhat appeased by Harry's lack of an outburst. He took a sip of his tea and leaned back. He smiled at Harry, which was a rather terrifying sight. "That is how I found you, Hadrian, in fact. The Ministry did a very thorough investigation."

Under Snape's unyielding gaze, Harry nodded - or, rather, his head wagged woodenly - and tried to return the smile.

"But, I thought James Potter hated you," Malfoy said. "My father said so one time when I asked why you were always so hard on Potter."

Harry sneaked another look at Malfoy. Malfoy had thought Snape was hard on him?

"Yes." Snape's lip curled just a little before he seemed to catch himself. "Yes, that is true. However, his mother and I were friends."

"But she was a..." Malfoy trailed off, then tried again. "But she was in Gryffindor."

"True," Snape said, inclining his head. "But we were friends before we came to Hogwarts. We lived close to each other. It is true that being in different Houses made it difficult to be friends while at school, but we made up for that over the summer holidays."

Harry looked at Snape, but couldn't tell if this was just another convenient lie for the sake of appearances, or possibly true. He just knew that he was going to chase down Lupin first chance he got, and he wasn't going to walk away without some answers.

"That she was Muggleborn made no difference to me," Snape continued, as if guessing what Malfoy's original question had been. "Hadrian's mother was a Muggleborn witch as well. She was a remarkable person..."

Snape lapsed into silence, staring broodily off into the distance.

Malfoy shrugged at Harry and then went back to his tea.

Harry's scone was forgotten in his hand and he suddenly remembered he was holding it, taking another bite. He was definitely going to corner Lupin before the day was over. He just wished he was more sure of what he hoped to hear. Would he rather Snape was lying, or that Snape really had been friends with Harry's mother? The latter had some possibilities he couldn't quite dismiss; he didn't know very many people who had known his mother and were willing to talk about her.

Before Harry could decide, Snape shook himself out of his reverie and refilled their cups.

"What plans are you making for your birthday, Hadrian? I realize I haven't had much time, but I understand Professor Lupin offered to help you?"

"Er... yes," Harry said carefully, aware that Malfoy was listening with an interested expression. "He is helping me with the invitations. I haven't thought any farther than that. I'll just do the same as Neville, I think."

"You still have some time. Let me know if you need anything."

Harry dismissed the throw-away comment, but not before feeling a small sting over the unfairness of not having anyone to go to if he did need something as silly as help with birthday plans. It was all very well to have people who cared whether he lived or died - he did believe that both Lupin and Snape did that, or else he might have died several times over the previous five years - but help with birthday parties seemed like the sort of thing you needed family for.

"Are you all right, Draco?"

Harry looked up in time to catch Malfoy stifling a yawn.

"Just tired."

Harry looked at him closely. Malfoy looked a great deal better than he had when Snape had carried him into the castle, when he had looked close to dead, but he still looked like someone who belonged in the hospital wing under Madam Pomfrey's care. He supposed it would take a lot more than a few days to make a difference. Harry, after a summer with the Dursleys, always needed a few weeks, at least, to feel like he had completely regained his strength... and the Dursleys had rarely _truly_ starved him.

"Perhaps you should return to your room and rest. I believe you may have overexerted yourself today. You are trying to do too much, too soon. Pushing yourself will not help you heal faster."

Malfoy nodded and gathered up his uneaten pastries and tarts into a napkin.

"Think about writing to your father. Putting it off will not make it easier."

"Yes, sir. Thank you for the tea."

Snape inclined his head. "I will see you at dinner, then."

Harry watched Malfoy leave, trying to think of an excuse to follow him.

To his horror, Snape refilled both their cups again.

"You will not be able to have a party on the 31st," Snape said, eyeing him and making 'party' sound like a bad word.

"I know it," Harry said, as calmly as he could. "We just discussed that in your office."

"Yes, well..." Snape brushed imaginary crumbs off his robes, finally looking away. "It's best not to set your expectations too high. Your birthday will be a quiet event, with very little fanfare and such. It will not be what you are used to."

Harry shrugged. "I never even had a real birthday before I turned eleven. Hagrid gave me my first ever birthday cake and my first present."

Snape frowned at him.

"Well, maybe not my first present," Harry amended. "The Dursleys gave me things, sometimes." He grimaced. "Old socks, used toothpicks, once a ball of twine that was actually rather useful..."

He sighed a little at the expression on Snape's face. Well, it was nice to have gotten it off his chest, even if Snape thought he was being an attention-seeking liar.

"A tall tale if I ever heard one," Snape said in a low, silky tone. "You have a particular affinity for pairing exaggeration with self-pity, don't you?"

Harry drank his tea silently.

"Do try to keep your expectations in proportion to reality," Snape warned. "I suspect you will not have very many people in attendance, and you certainly should not expect gifts -"

"I don't," Harry said flatly. Gifts still surprised him, even after five years. He certainly didn't expect _Hadrian_ to get any.

"Good," Snape said. He sipped his own tea and continued to study Harry like he might an insect under a magnifying lens. "Now that that's out of the way... what will you be giving Longbottom?"

Harry looked at him blankly.

"Well?" Snape said impatiently. "You can't show up empty-handed. What does the boy like?"

"He likes plants," Harry said. With a rather uncomfortable feeling, he realized he didn't know what else Neville liked. "Er... I don't think he has any pictures of his parents at the moment, because he's carrying around a really bad one that was in the Prophet earlier."

Snape's lips thinned, but he didn't say anything.

"Only I'm not supposed to know that," Harry said, shaking his head. It gave him a headache to keep track of what he knew and what Hadrian did. "He showed that to me when I was... me."

"I see," Snape said. "I doubt Longbottom truly lacks photographs of his family, but I'm not surprised he has none with him. Since you will have to decline his invitation -"

"But I already accepted!"

Snape gave him a withering look. "_Think_ before opening your mouth. You will be going as you are now, will you not?"

Harry nodded, feeling foolish. Neville would have to receive a rejection from Harry to go along with an acceptance from Hadrian.

"Since you will be declining," Snape repeated, looking at him like he expected another interruption, "you may include a gift. Frank Longbottom was in the Slug Club -"

"The _what_?" Harry asked before he could stop himself.

Snape sniffed irritably.

"Sorry," Harry said. "I'm sorry. But... the what?"

"Slug Club," Snape said. He paused and waited, only continuing when Harry stayed silent. "It was a social group for outstanding students, organized and directed by the former Head of Slytherin House. A man by the name of Horace Slughorn..." Snape paused again, but Harry was still listening quietly. "He also taught Potions."

"Oh," Harry said when Snape didn't go on.

"I may have one or two photographs from that. You may look through them and if you find one of Frank Longbottom you may send it."

Harry stared at Snape. That was a downright decent thing to offer, and he never would have expected it of Snape.

"Thank you," he finally managed. "Er... so, you were in this club? The Slug Club?"

"Yes," Snape said, nodding slowly. A bit of a faraway look entered his eyes again, just like when he had been talking about Hadrian's (or maybe Harry's, Harry wasn't quite sure) mother. "So was your mother -"

"Lily?" Harry asked, leaning forward eagerly and forgetting he wasn't supposed to interrupt. "Or Beatrice?"

Snape's eyes snapped back into focus. "What? Oh." He frowned for a moment. "Lily was."

It was almost enough to make Harry ask him if he really had been friends with her, but he held back, determined to ask Lupin first. Anyway, from the agitated way Snape picked up his teacup and drained it, his knuckles white around the handle, Snape wasn't in the mood for any more questions.

"Thank you," Harry said, rather stiffly. "That would make a good present."

"Yes, well -" Snape caught himself and took a breath. When he spoke again, his tone was even. "You still need a gift you can bring to the tea. I suppose you can look through the books in my personal library. I have a number of herbology texts I have no use for anymore, and they may as well go to someone with an aptitude for the subject."

Harry, surprised again, could only stumble out another thanks, in spite of the fact that Snape was giving him a look that implied Harry's own lack of aptitude was simply appalling.

"Come along," Snape said abruptly, getting up and waving his wand over the table, causing everything to vanish from sight - even the custard tart Harry had hastily reached for. "I still have a number of things to do."

"Thank you for the tea," Harry said.

Snape looked at him doubtfully, then nodded. "It was less of a disaster than I anticipated. Come along."

For a moment, Harry watched as Snape started walking back toward the courtyard door, then trailed after him.

He supposed Snape was right, and it hadn't been the sort of disaster Harry had been anticipating, either. That didn't, of course, mean he wanted to repeat the experience. Snape had been behaving oddly all day; his relative lack of bite was probably a one-off sort of thing. Either that, or he had let out all his frustration on Lupin earlier and hadn't left much in reserve for Harry.

Snape held the door open, looking impatient. "Stop dawdling."

With a small sigh, Harry shook off his thoughts and trotted to catch up.

They walked together as far as the staff room, where Snape stopped.

"If you haven't already, clean your room and prepare any of your clothes that need to be washed. I will make sure a house-elf makes a round of the dungeons tonight. After that, you may spend some time studying. I still intend for us to have a Potions lesson tonight."

"Yes, sir."

"Go on."

Harry could feel Snape watching him until he was safely out of sight.

He paused as he reached the dungeon stairs, looking toward the main staircase. He supposed Lupin must be in the staff room and there was no point going up to his office just then, though he was still just as determined to find him and get some answers. It would just have to wait.

He headed down to the dungeons, but not before feeling just a little annoyed with himself for having come up with a convincing excuse to do just as Snape had told him.


	20. Chapter 20

Harry was passing Snape's office for the second time when he heard footsteps coming toward him. The sound seemed to be coming from one of the many narrow corridors that were the bane of Harry's existence.

If it was Lupin, he was going to ask him how the Map was coming along, because this was _ridiculous_.

But it wasn't Lupin - it was Malfoy.

"Hello," Malfoy said, stopping when he saw Harry. He shifted a cloth-covered box to his other hip.

"Didn't my dad tell you to go rest?" Harry asked suspiciously, eyeing the box. It was large and probably heavy from the way Malfoy was holding it.

Malfoy shrugged.

Harry couldn't think of any way to demand to see what was in the box.

"Well, see you at dinner," Malfoy said, walking away from him.

Harry, silently fuming, watched him until Malfoy turned the corner.

He just knew Malfoy was up to something. Malfoy was _always_ up to something.

He stomped off toward his room and this time managed to get there without making a single wrong turn, but without a clear idea of how he'd done it.

His clothes really did need a washing. He did a quick calculation and found that he had been at Hogwarts now for a full week. If Snape hadn't reminded him, he would have been pulling clothes out of the dirty laundry pile in a day or two. During the school year, clothes he took off at the end of the day simply vanished overnight and reappeared clean by morning. And at the Dursleys he went from one set of rags to another, and it didn't much matter if they were clean, because a few hours of chores would leave even freshly laundered clothes covered in sweat and grime.

Harry supposed that he would have to become more responsible about making sure his wardrobe stayed in good condition. It _was_ nice to have decent clothes, even if the clothes Snape had provided were a bit odd. Well, it wasn't as if he ever got to choose his Dudley-castoffs, either.

He added the bedspread to the pile - it was hopeless - and then sat down at his desk, not wanting to give Snape anything else to complain about by sitting on the bed without the bedspread on.

He started to look over his Charms book, but that only reminded him about the wands and he pushed the book away with a grimace after reading less than a chapter. He reached for Magical Drafts and Potions instead.

The next time he looked up, it was because the chime of the school clock was signaling dinner.

Harry let the book fall out of his hands and checked his watch.

More than an hour had passed without him realizing it.

Harry scratched his nose and looked down at the book he had been reading. It was open to a page about one fourth into the book. Had he started at the beginning?

He flipped to a random page and covered half of it with his palm, reading only the description of the potion. It happened to be an antidote to common poisons.

"Crushed bezoar," Harry said aloud, uncertainly. "Uh... mistletoe berries... whole, and powdered unicorn horn."

He lifted his hand off the page and read the ingredients list.

He had got it right. Maybe he _had_ read it.

"Weird," Harry muttered, letting the book fall shut. "Really, definitely, very weird."

He looked around his room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. His eyes fell on Neville's invitation, and he put it in his pocket to give to Neville. He took the time to brush his hair and take off the silly necktie he had worn to tea, and then headed up to the Great Hall.

By the time he made it (two wrong turns and one dead-end corridor later), everyone else was already eating.

Snape gave him a look, but didn't say anything as Harry slid into an empty seat across from him.

He helped himself to the beef casserole and stewed vegetables, while trying to listen in to the conversations around him.

"- and that is why we must have something in place by the time students arrive," McGonagall was telling Bill, who was nodding in agreement.

"- two! Two! How do you explain that?" Mrs. Weasley was demanding of Fred, waving her fork at him.

"Dunno, Mum," Fred said, giving Ron and George a sour look. "Maybe Percy took them."

"He did no such thing, Fred!"

"- low on sleeping potions, burn salve, and a few other things," Snape was saying to Lupin, showing him a list. "If I start now, I can have most of these done in a fortnight. That should save time closer to the start of term."

Harry looked around the table under the guise of reaching for the jug of pumpkin juice.

Hermione had her nose in a thick book. Her hair was tied in a thick, slightly unraveled braid, which made her look older and even thinner than she was.

Ginny was looking pensive and gloomy, stirring her soup and picking absently at the embroidered tablecloth with her other hand.

Luna was staring straight ahead, eyes glassy. Harry had never seen her eat without being prompted or helped by someone, and Mrs. Weasley was still busy berating Fred.

Neville was also reading; Harry vaguely recognized an advanced herbology textbook and figured Neville was trying to get a bit ahead in his studies.

Harry looked at Malfoy and found Malfoy already watching him.

Trying not to scowl, Harry went back to his food.

A dish of fried beans was set in front of him with more clutter than necessary. Harry looked up.

"You wouldn't mind helping with a few potions, would you, Hadrian?" Lupin asked, smiling his irritatingly benign smile. "I'm sure your father would appreciate it."

"I don't mind," Harry said automatically. He stuffed a piece of potato in his mouth to keep back another scowl. More time with Snape?

"There, you see?" Lupin said to Snape. "You need only ask. Children usually do want to be helpful."

"Not in my experience," Snape muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Harry to overhear. Aloud he said, "We can discuss it during your next lesson, Hadrian. Most of these potions should not be beyond your ability level, and will provide a good opportunity for extended practice."

"How come I can't help?" Malfoy asked, butting in.

"Because you should be resting," Snape told him shortly. "And eat more." With that, he spooned more vegetables onto Malfoy's plate, then fixed Harry with an annoyed look. "You, too."

Harry reached for the vegetable dish with a resigned sigh. It was easier to just do it.

"Have you done as I asked you?" Snape continued, apparently unaware that Harry wanted nothing more than to be left alone for the rest of the meal.

"I cleaned my room," Harry said, stabbing a piece of broccoli. "I have all my laundry ready. I studied."

Snape fixed him with a warning look, but his tone stayed even. "Good. Then your evening is free to focus wholly on your lessons and other productive endeavors."

"I already promised to help Professor Lupin right after my Potions lesson."

And now he was really glad he had. Who knew what Snape would find for him to do? Besides, he did still need to speak with Lupin.

"Good," Snape repeated. "That is precisely what I meant. Productive and out of trouble."

"There's plenty to do," put in Mrs. Weasley, who Harry hadn't realized was paying attention. "My boys are going to be cleaning the hospital wing just as soon as they finish the tasks I've already set for them. We can always use another pair of hands."

Harry saw the scowls on the faces of Ron and the twins, and that was enough to make him hold back his own.

Lupin gave him an apologetic sort of look over the rim of his teacup.

He looked over at Snape, just waiting for Snape to volunteer him for a task that was likely to be one part hard labor and ninety-nine parts insults and bullying. Fred, George, and Ron were looking at him with narrowed eyes, and Harry was sure they would make him miserable if the four of them had to work together.

Snape took a leisurely sip of his coffee before speaking. "I have plenty of tasks to occupy Hadrian for now, but I will keep that in mind. A bit of hard work certainly doesn't hurt. Most students are so used to having everything done for them that they hardly know how much work goes into running a school this size."

"How very true," Mrs. Weasley agreed, giving her three youngest sons another pointed look. "And some have also yet to learn to appreciate the hard work of their parents, when at home. When I was a young girl, my mother made sure my brothers and I would be ready to run our own households by the time we were of age." She shook her head. "Poor Gideon and Fabian never got to, of course... Hardly out of Hogwarts when..."

Mr. Weasley patted his wife on the shoulder as she trailed off, looking dejected.

Harry recalled that Gideon and Fabian Prewett had been two Order of the Phoenix members who had been killed during the first war. Mad-Eye Moody had pointed them out the previous summer when he showed Harry a photo of the original Order. They had been Mrs. Weasley's brothers? Harry hadn't realized the Weasley family had suffered a loss this big because of Voldemort; now he understood better why Mrs. Weasley had been so set against her sons joining the Order and so shrill whenever the subject came up.

Harry finished the rest of his meal without any further incident - no one else spoke to him - and stood up to follow when Mrs. Weasley began leading her family, Luna, Hermione, and Neville out of the Great Hall.

"I just need to give this to Neville," Harry said to no one in particular, brandishing the invitation.

He caught up with Neville by the main staircase.

"Here -" he said, aware that Ron had turned around to see what was happening and was now tugging on the sleeve of either Fred or George to get their attention. "I said I'd come. Thanks again."

Neville smiled and took it from him. "I'm glad. Well, see you around."

In the corner of his eye, Harry could see Ron puffing up and turning red. He hoped Neville wasn't going to have any trouble over the invitation.

"See you," Harry said, turning away so he wouldn't have to look at Ron anymore.

He went back to the Great Hall, but got there just in time to be hustled out again by Snape.

"We will get your lesson over with early, Hadrian," Snape said, motioning for both Harry and Malfoy to follow him as he lead the way to the dungeons. "Draco, you should rest - I can tell you didn't before, and you are swaying on your feet."

"I am not," Malfoy muttered behind Harry, followed by, "Yes, I think I shall, sir."

Harry stifled a smirk. At least he wasn't the only target for Snape's nitpicking and need to control. Let Snape breathe down Malfoy's neck for a change.

A few minutes later Harry was being ushered into an empty classroom and Snape was warding the door. A set of three matching cauldrons sat on a table, something inside them already bubbling over low flames.

"You will be working on a forgetfulness potion," Snape said, striding to the front of the room. "All the ingredients are already laid out for you, and the directions are on the board."

Harry approached the table, looking over the tools Snape had laid out and the ingredients on a cutting mat.

"You will follow the directions precisely for the first potion," Snape continued, settling down behind his desk. "For the next two you will modify the potion in the manner of your own choosing."

Harry looked up, frowning.

"A simple task," Snape said, raising an eyebrow. "Make it stronger, make it weaker, change the duration of its effectiveness..."

"All right," Harry said uncertainly, licking his lips. "I can do that... I think."

Snape's eyebrow arched higher. "You may begin."

Harry turned to study the directions on the board. He could hear the rustling of parchment behind him, but he could also feel Snape's eyes still on him.

The potion was one he thought he had read about, though he couldn't remember actually studying it, nor ever making it in class. The steps felt familiar, anyway.

He looked the cauldrons over carefully. They were bubbling over blue magical flames, each filled about half-way with water. It was not exactly the setup he was used to from classes, but not unfamiliar.

He decided to get the first potion out of the way first, which would give him time to think about the other two. At the moment, the thought of deviating from the directions gave him a panicky feeling in the pit of his stomach. What was Snape playing at? For five years, he had demanded students in his class follow instructions precisely. How many points had been lost because someone hadn't added _precisely_ ten billywig stings or _exactly_ a cup of river water or _only_ a dash of shredded boomslang skin? Deviating from the directions hadn't been part of Potions class, ever.

He shredded the Valerian springs into small pieces before adding them to the cauldron. Carefully, he stirred the potion clockwise, counting to one hundred slowly. He poured in goat's milk and added a dash of powdered mistletoe berries, then stirred again until the color was even.

Then he ran into a problem.

"Sir?"

Something thumped; Harry assumed Snape had set down a book, but it still made him wince and he was glad he hadn't turned toward Snape.

"What is it?"

"The next part calls for extinguishing the fire. Er... how do I do that?"

Snape made an impatient noise, but a moment later a spell swished past Harry's sleeve and the fire under the cauldron went out with a hiss.

"Thank you," Harry said.

His face felt hot. Imagine having to ask for such a stupid thing! He really was useless without a working wand... and what would happen when classes started, if it wasn't all sorted out before then?

He covered the cauldron with the heavy iron lid to trap the steam, then turned to the other two cauldrons.

What was he supposed to do?

Make it stronger...

Harry thought desperately, willing his brain to dredge up some useful bit of information from his reading. He must have read _something_ about making potions stronger, mustn't he have?

He looked again at the tools Snape had laid out, hoping for some clue there.

There was a mortar and pestle...

That's right, he could crush the Valerian to get more of the juices into the potion. If he had fresh mistletoe berries, rather than dried and powdered, he could have done the same with them.

There was a small bottle of water...

Harry picked it up and forced himself to think harder. He could soak the powdered mistletoe berries, couldn't he? Some potions called for soaking powdered ingredients before use, didn't they?

It was worth a try, anyway, since he didn't have any better ideas.

He crushed the Valerian while the powdered berries soaked in a small dish.

This time, when he finished stirring the potion for the second time, Snape extinguished the fire without being asked.

"Thank you," Harry said awkwardly, not turning around.

He had no idea what to do for the third potion.

But he had to do something.

He looked at the tools again, but there was nothing else that stood out.

Maybe he was supposed to add more of one ingredient or less of another. But which one?

He suddenly recalled another potion - one they had made in class - that used goat's milk. It was a sleeping potion, and the amount of milk had to be precisely measured if the potion was to last a full night. Snape had taken points off his and Ron's potion because it wouldn't have worn off in time for the unlucky sleeper to get to class the next morning.

Hoping for the best, Harry followed the directions on the board until he came to the goat's milk, and then added only half the amount of milk called for.

Snape extinguished the fire and waited until Harry had covered the cauldron before he spoke.

"While we wait, write down the modifications you made and the results you expect to achieve."

Harry's shoulders slumped. It wasn't enough that he had done it - now he had to write about it? But he sat down and got started.

Snape hadn't set a length, so Harry wrote precisely six sentences; two for each potion.

"Finished?" Snape asked as Harry put down the quill.

"Yes, sir."

"Bring it here."

Harry picked up the parchment and carried it to Snape's desk.

"Hmm," Snape said as he looked it over. "Playing it safe for once, are you?"

Harry chose to ignore the barb.

"Go bottle the potions," Snape said. He was dipping his quill into red ink, which made Harry's insides writhe uncomfortably. "Do not neglect to label them properly."

Harry bottled each potion carefully. One of them looked slightly lighter and less clear than the other two, and one had a bit of sludge on the bottom. Harry didn't have much hope for any of them but the first one, which was both clear and the right color.

By the time he had carried the flasks back to Snape's desk, the parchment was covered with more red ink than black.

Harry set the potions down in a row in front of Snape, resigned to hear the worst.

Snape picked up the sludgy potion first. "You would have got more out of the ingredients had you thought to soak the powder in the milk, rather than diluting it with water. Nevertheless, you were on the right track. This would be worth a half point if you were in my N.E.W.T. class."

Harry nodded, swallowing.

Snape picked up the milky potion next. "Likewise, while you were on the right track, you should have used water to dilute the milk, rather than merely adding less of it. Ideally, you should have left it to settle, then skimmed the top and used the remainder."

Harry nodded again.

Snape picked up the final flask.

"You are able to follow directions - a surprising turn of events," Snape said after peering at the potion as he held it up to the light. "This is passable - you could get worse at an apothecary of ill repute. It's shoddy, but it would not poison anyone."

Harry supposed both of those were meant to be compliments, and nodded again.

"Not bad for a first effort," Snape added grudgingly. "It's unfortunate you never displayed any talent in class." He paused, making Harry brace himself again for another insult or backhanded compliment. "One might have expected more from you. Your mother was one of Slughorn's top students, and Potions was one of her best subjects." He grimaced. "Not that there was much she was not good at."

Harry was left to make a fish impression for a good minute or two while Snape stared at the red-inked parchment in front of him without seeming to see it.

"Take this," Snape said, coming out of his trance abruptly and holding the parchment out to Harry. "Review where you went wrong and write an essay on the six basic potion modifications that don't require additional ingredients or specialized equipment."

Harry took the parchment and rolled it up slowly. "Sir?"

"What is it?" Snape asked irritably, frowning at him.

"Did you..." Harry paused, reminding himself that he had been going to ask Lupin first. But it couldn't hurt, could it? He would be seeing Lupin in a short while, anyway. "Did you say you were friends with my mother."

Snape continued to frown for the longest time before answering. "I did."

"And... and you really lived near each other?"

"We did."

"It... wasn't anywhere near Little Whinging, was it?" Harry asked. He could imagine his mother maybe living in some nondescript suburb where people fancied themselves quite normal, but he couldn't imagine Snape. "In Surrey?"

Snape stared at him for another moment before he snorted with grim laughter. "No. Nowhere near there."

"Oh," Harry said, at a loss.

"Go see Lupin before he starts to wonder where you are," Snape said, waving him off. "I have work to do."

"All right..." Harry said, feeling confused. He found he would rather have stayed if Snape would keep talking, but staying around Snape for any reason at all felt so odd that he couldn't quite admit it. "Thank you for... uh..." He couldn't think what he was thanking Snape for, exactly. "The lesson."

Snape waved him away again. "Go on. I expect that essay to be done by tomorrow."

Harry left rather hurriedly. He hated feeling confused, and feeling confused about Snape was particularly irritating.

He would have to ask Lupin - well, that _was_ where he was going, wasn't it? - before he would let his tongue get away from him again and ask Snape any more questions. For all he knew now, Snape was just winding him up.

Harry finally reached Lupin's office, feeling like it took him twice as long as it should have to get there. He knocked and waited impatiently.

"Oh, Hadrian," Lupin said, opening the door wide enough for Harry to enter. "I thought maybe you'd changed your mind or your father found something else for your to do."

"No," Harry said shortly. He stopped in the center of Lupin's office and tried to keep his feet from pacing.

"Something wrong?" Lupin asked, having locked and warded the door. "Have a seat. I would offer tea, but as you can see there isn't a free surface anywhere."

Harry glanced around, taking in the overflowing boxes and piles of paper that nearly overwhelmed the large desk and the area immediately around it. It looked like Lupin had got rid of Umbridge's things and had got around to bringing in his own.

Lupin cleared his throat. "Do sit."

Harry sat down in one of the chairs, feeling all out of sorts. He didn't know where to start.

"Clearly something is bothering you," Lupin said. "Is it what happened at dinner? I do apologize - that wasn't meant to -"

"No, it's not that," Harry cut in.

Lupin waited a few moments before trying again. "Did something happen at the tea? I understand some unexpected subjects came up?"

Harry stared at Lupin. Well, of course Snape would have told him. They were always talking about Harry behind his back. "Yes. And it happened again just now."

"I see. Would you like to talk about it?"

Harry opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He didn't know where to start - he really didn't.

Lupin scratched his ear and looked at Harry with a mixture of confusion and frustration. "I'm not a mind reader, you know."

Harry drew in a breath. "Did he know my mum?"

Lupin recovered rather quickly. "He did, actually. I believe they were friends before they came to Hogwarts."

Harry opened his mouth again, but closed it when he couldn't decide if he was going to protest or demand details.

After a few silent moments, Lupin decided to continue.

"I believe they lived in the same area. Somewhere in the north of England, if I recall correctly. Of course, they were sorted into different Houses once they arrived at Hogwarts..."

"He said -" Harry had to stop and draw another breath. "That they would still be friends over the summers. That... that they made up for being in Gryffindor and Slytherin."

Lupin scratched his head again. "I wouldn't know about that, but if he says so..."

Harry thought that was an infuriating answer. "Were they or weren't they friends, that's all I want to know!"

"Yes," Lupin said, rather firmly. "They were friends."

"How can you be so sure, suddenly?" Harry asked suspiciously. "You just told me you _believed_ they were. That isn't the same thing."

Lupin sighed. "No, I suppose not. They were friends, that much is true. I don't know any specifics, however. I only got to know her after..."

Harry couldn't believe it when Lupin trailed off. "After _what_?"

"After their falling out, I suppose," Lupin said with another sigh. "We - that is, James and I and Sirius and... Peter - we didn't pay her much attention until James fell for her sometime in our fifth year. Before that, she was just the girl who insisted on being on speaking terms with a Slytherin we didn't like." Lupin looked at Harry apologetically. "I know you've got some inkling of what we were like back then."

"Bullies," Harry spat, more forcefully than he intended.

"Yes," Lupin said, with another sigh. "Bullies of the worst sort, I'm afraid. Four against one, and don't forget we had the Marauder's Map and the Invisibility Cloak. Lily always defended him..."

"And he called her a Mudblood!" Harry said, outraged. "I saw that in the Pensieve!"

"Yes, well... I did say they had a falling out."

Harry sat in stony silence for a while.

"Anything else?" Lupin prodded warily.

"Yeah," Harry said, sounding grouchy even to himself, but not caring. "There's this Slug thing..."

"The Slug Club?"

"Yeah, that. Were you in it, too?"

Lupin looked sour. "No. Invitations to the Slug Club were reserved for the talented, the wealthy, the ambitious, and the likely to amount to something in life. Everything a dirt-poor werewolf wasn't."

Harry's mouth fell open again, this time in silent indignation.

"Your mother was in - she got in on pure talent, I'm sure. James didn't get invited, in spite that the Potters were wealthy. Sirius turned it down because James didn't get in."

"Snape was in it."

"_Professor_ Snape was, yes."

Harry huffed irritably. "He said he would show me pictures. Or, at least, I'll see them because I'm supposed to pick one out for Neville. His father was in the Slug Club, too."

"I'm afraid you will need to ask Professor Snape if you want to know anything else about it. I don't know much more than that it existed and the students who were in it seemed to get enjoyment out of their membership."

"All right," Harry said grudgingly. He supposed he could ask Snape about it, if that was the only way to find anything out. He would rather ask than not know.

"Is that all, then? You still look troubled."

"Nothing -" Harry eyed Lupin, already anticipating the excuses Lupin would probably make for Snape. Just like he always did. "He did call me a liar when I said I'd never had a birthday before my eleventh."

Lupin studied him for a few moments before repeating, "Never had a birthday?"

"Never mind," Harry said, shaking his head. "It's not important. I'm just tired of being told I'm lying when I'm not." He gave Lupin another mistrustful look. "And it isn't a bid for sympathy, either."

"How did the two of you get on such a subject?" Lupin asked, scratching his ear again and frowning. "And with Draco there?"

"He'd left," Harry said. "He was tired or something. And I was being warned not to expect any presents... like I'm Dudley and want more each year than I got the previous one."

Lupin tilted his head to one side, as though that helped him study Harry better. "I see. Are you sure you didn't misunderstand?"

"Misunderstand how?" Harry demanded, exasperated.

"Perhaps he merely meant not to expect gifts from Hermione or Neville. Or even Ron, for that matter. They barely have their own things with them, and they're not exactly in any position to give you anything. He certainly couldn't have meant you would go completely without gifts this year - you're getting one from me, in any event."

Harry considered this, and grudgingly allowed for the possibility. "Yeah, all right... maybe. What does he have against birthdays, anyway? It's like he's going out of his way to make sure I know I won't be having one on the 31st and that I shouldn't expect much on the 1st, either."

Lupin hesitated. Harry could tell he was picking his words carefully.

"Perhaps he's thinking of his own childhood. It wasn't a very happy one, as I understand it. Perhaps he thinks that as Hadrian - as his son - you're likely to have some of the same social problems."

"What," Harry asked suspiciously, "no one showed up to his birthday parties or something?"

"I don't know if anyone did or didn't, to be honest," Lupin said. "It was just a thought."

"That's dumb," Harry said peevishly.

"I wish I could help you further, but at this point I'm only guessing. It's difficult to know why people do the things they do, unless you ask them."

Lupin eyed him meaningfully, but Harry was having none of that. He was most certainly not going to repeat the birthday conversation with Snape, if he could help it at all.

"I realize I've been less than helpful," Lupin said. "It's just that you're asking these particular questions of the wrong person."

"All right, then..." Harry had any number of things he wanted to ask, and he picked the most important one. "What's wrong with my magic and when will it sort itself out?"

"I believe -" Lupin hesitated, but after a moment continued. "Any number of things can throw off a wizard's magic, really. In your case I believe there was some interference -"

"Voldemort possessing me?" Harry cut in. A shiver ran down his spine at the reminder.

"Possibly, but I'm thinking the potion you took to change you into Hadrian is the most likely culprit."

Harry thought he was handling learning that it was _Snape's fault_ quite well. All he did was draw in a long breath with an audible hiss.

Lupin frowned at him and went right on. "We have been overdoing it with the potions. Changing back and forth again and again is not a good idea. Polyjuice is not meant for long-term consumption, but when it must be taken for longer than an hour, it is best not to let it wear off before the next dose. There are documented instances of people suffering all kinds of consequences as a result of abusing the potion."

"Oh," Harry choked out. So they had just let him take potions over and over until he lost his magic? "Well, that's great."

"We had hoped you would escape any such effects, of course. The potion you took was only just based on Polyjuice, and since it would not wear off without an antidote, it should have been fine for longer use. Changing back, however..."

"I get it."

"Anyway," Lupin said, looking at him closely, probably for warning signs of an impending tantrum, "we expect your magic will right itself if you stay off the potions for a bit. Unfortunately..."

Harry already knew what was coming.

"Unfortunately that means you won't be able to visit with your friends for a while."

"How long?" Harry asked, swallowing.

"Just a few days, really, not long. You will be busy these next few days, in any case, so we were thinking we would test you again after your birthday passes and see if abstaining has made any difference."

"What if it doesn't?" Harry challenged. It was bad enough he wouldn't see his friends, but where was the guarantee it would help?

"We have other things to try, then," Lupin said. "Less pleasant, mind you. Don't worry, one way or the other you will get your magic back. I promise, this time."

Harry mulled this over. On the one hand, it was only three days until his birthday, and he had already willingly passed up the chance to see his friends. The next day after that was Hadrian's birthday, and he wouldn't be able to see his friends then, either. On the other hand...

Well, what choice did he have?

"I'm sorry it isn't as simple as going down to Diagon Alley and getting you a new wand," Lupin said when Harry hadn't answered. "We might have to do that, too, but as you saw, the wand you have is not the cause of the problem."

"Oh... all right," Harry said grudgingly. "I don't think I have much choice here."

Lupin smiled crookedly. "We make the best of the choices we have. That's life - a series of choices that aren't choices at all."

"Well, that makes me feel a lot better," Harry said. "Thanks."

"I can quote Dumbledore, instead," Lupin offered. "Our choices define who -"

"No thank you," Harry said flatly.

Lupin shrugged. "Well, if you're sure..."

Harry was entirely sure he didn't want to hear anything Dumbledore had ever said about life, choices, or any other subject.

After a few silent moments, Lupin must have decided to change the subject to distract him.

"Are your lessons going well, at least? I haven't heard complaints from either of you, so I assume you're finding them tolerable and not giving Professor Snape any trouble?"

"I..." Harry shrugged, trailing off. The lessons hadn't been as terrible as he had thought they would be, back when Snape handed him the schedule. "We've missed some sessions, so it isn't that bad so far."

Well, other than having been unfairly berated over not being able to do magic, when it so clearly wasn't his fault. Even if the cause did turn out to be something other than his wand, like he had thought.

"I know it must sting to be told to revise from the very beginning, but it does give you something to do and it will do some good in the long run," Lupin said. "Especially since several subjects have not been taught properly. I do wish they would find someone else to teach History... perhaps it would stop repeating itself."

Harry started to ask what he meant, but decided against it.

"I still hope to start that Defense group," Lupin added. "If I can find the energy..."

"Are you still feeling ill?" Harry asked, looking at Lupin closely.

Lupin just looked tired, like he always did. At least he didn't look like he had almost died just days earlier.

"Only the usual," Lupin said with a shake of his head. "A few aches and pains and this tiredness... like a fog that won't lift."

"Maybe you should rest more," Harry suggested, frowning. "There's still a lot of time left before classes start up again. A whole month."

"I assure you, I am resting," Lupin said, more firmly this time. "And I have been worse, so this is not something you need to worry over."

Harry felt slightly guilty for having mostly forgotten about Lupin's illness until then. "Er..." He looked around sheepishly. "Should I be helping with something? That's why you asked me here."

"Actually, I asked you here so we could talk," Lupin said, grinning. "I could get this mess sorted in a few minutes - it's just that I like looking my books over and finding just the right place for everything."

"Oh," Harry said. "Well, I could still help, couldn't I?"

"Certainly," Lupin said. "We could even keep talking while we work. That is -" Lupin raised an eyebrow. "- if there is anything else you want to talk about?"

Harry opened the box Lupin indicated and started to unwrap what appeared to be a collection of large, shiny rocks.

"It's just that..."

"Yes?" Lupin prompted after a few moments. He paused in arranging a line of ugly, vicious looking statuettes with too many arms and legs on a shelf above his desk.

"How come no one ever talks about my mum?" Harry asked. "Everyone always told me about my dad - ever since I got to Hogwarts."

"That is unfortunate," Lupin said, nodding. "She made a lot of friends while at school... and afterward, too. Perhaps James was simply a louder presence and stuck in everyone's mind. James was very popular, you know. Smart, handsome, a born leader -"

"You're doing it," Harry said, exasperated. "That's exactly what I meant. Everyone always had a lot to say about him."

Silently, because he didn't think Lupin would appreciate it, he added, _Even Snape_.

"Sorry," Lupin said with a shake of his head. "I'm afraid I just didn't know Lily as well. She and James didn't start going out until Seventh Year, and after Hogwarts..." Lupin trailed off pensively. "We had the Order, of course. All of us were in it together."

Harry, remembering that Lupin had eventually come under suspicion of being a spy, stayed quiet.

After a few moments Lupin shook his head again. "Anyway, haven't you found someone who knew her quite well?"

Harry gave him a sideways look. Maybe Lupin found it easy to ask Snape questions, but Harry would rather not, generally.

Lupin sighed and went back to arranging the statuettes.

"Do you think Fudge will get re-elected?" Harry asked, changing the subject. "He was in the paper again."

"No," Lupin said. "I don't think he will."

"Doesn't that just mean he's getting more dangerous?"

Lupin turned to frown at Harry over his shoulder. "Fudge _is_ dangerous."

"I know it," Harry said. "I meant more desperate." He swallowed. "More desperate to get his hands on me."

"I can't imagine how he could get more desperate than he has been, really. I can't stress how important it is for you to stay on your guard."

"I am," Harry said quickly. "I'm being very careful."

Lupin shot him another piercing look. "Is it getting easier? Being Hadrian, I mean?"

"Maybe," Harry said. Was it? "Sometimes it is."

"Oh?"

Harry shrugged.

As long as Snape wasn't insulting him while Harry was trying to maintain his fake persona, it wasn't too hard to reply the way he thought Hadrian might. It was a lot harder when Snape was getting a dig in and Harry couldn't even retort.

"Well, it will get easier with practice," Lupin said. "I know it's a challenge, but you have faced worse."

"I know it," Harry said with another shrug. "At least I'm at Hogwarts. I've always wanted to be, during summers. Here or the Burrow, anyway. And except when we were at Grimmauld Place with... with Sirius." Harry bit his lip, waiting to see if Lupin would react. But Lupin just placed another statuette on the shelf, with a small sigh. "That was the best."

"Was it?" Lupin asked. "I suppose with everyone there it was something different and exciting."

Harry nodded vaguely. That wasn't the reason at all, of course. It had just been the closest he ever got to living with Sirius like he had wanted to ever since meeting him.

"I'm done with this," he said, showing Lupin the empty box. "What else can I do?"

"You can start unpacking the books. They go on that shelf in the corner, not the smaller one."

"I thought you liked to sort through them?"

"I will have to do without, this time," Lupin said with a soft laugh. "Go ahead."

Harry started to take thick, yellowed, faded tomes out of a large box. He placed them carefully on the shelf, though he suspected Lupin would get to sort them after all; many of them had cryptic titles that made it impossible for him to put them by subject or in any other kind of order.

"You know," Lupin said quietly, "we _can_ talk about Sirius. I never meant to give you the idea we couldn't."

Harry swallowed, not turning around. "All right. Er... not right now. If you don't mind."

"Of course," Lupin said.

Harry worked in silence until he filled up most of the shelf and was surrounded by empty boxes.

"I'm done with the books, Professor."

"Thank you," Lupin said, looking over. "You know, you ought to get going. You will want to stop by Professor Snape's office on your way, if he's still there, that is. I left some things for you. If he isn't there, you can get them tomorrow."

Harry supposed Lupin meant the parchment and envelopes for his birthday tea invitations. He wishes Lupin had kept them rather than leave them with Snape and give Harry a reason to have to see Snape again before bed. Hadn't Lupin known Harry was coming up to his office?

"All right..."

"Good night and pleasant dreams," Lupin said, opening the door for him. Then he repeated, a little louder, "Good night, Hadrian."

"Good night, Professor," Harry said.

Harry walked down to the dungeons, hoping the whole way that he wouldn't run into anyone. Fortunately, Hogwarts seemed to be deserted.

There was a light under Snape's office door, so Harry - very reluctantly - knocked.

"Come in," Snape said in his usual impatient tone.

Harry opened the door and stepped just inside.

"Hadrian," Snape said, looking him over with a slight frown that didn't match his unusually light tone. "Well, come in... come in."

Harry shut the door so Snape could ward it, but Snape made no move to do so.

"I was hoping you would stop by before bed, Hadrian."

The double use of his name put Harry on guard. His heart started beating faster at the thought of another run-in with Fudge or Aurors. He thought quickly.

"I forgot to say good night earlier... Dad." It was still very uncomfortable to have to call Snape that, but he thought he had managed a convincing tone. "Also, Professor Lupin told me he left some things for me."

"Yes," Snape said slowly, reaching for a parcel that was sitting on the edge of his desk. "Here, take it."

Harry had to move closer to do so.

"Sit down," Snape ordered as soon as Harry was in front of the desk.

Harry was so shocked he dropped onto the bench with considerable force, causing it to rock and Snape to frown at him.

"Before I waste my evening, is there anything you would like to tell me?"

Harry stared at him blankly. "About what, sir?"

Snape scowled at him. "The potions you have been taking. Have there been any unusual effects?"

"Like what?" Harry asked; he was still confused about Snape's abrupt change of subject, and the earlier jolt of adrenaline wasn't helping as it wore off, leaving him feeling shaky and tense.

Snape gestured impatiently. "Tremors or sweating? Unusual hunger or thirst? Dizziness or light-headedness? Hallucinations or double vision? Wearing off earlier than expected?"

Harry started to shake his head after the first question, and he kept shaking it until Snape was done.

"You felt no ill effects any of the times you returned to your previous physical appearance?"

Harry nodded. He had felt fine every time he had visited his friends. Better than fine, really. Being himself again always made him feel great; lighter, somehow.

Snape looked at him suspiciously for a few moments. "Lupin seems to think the potions caused your problem with magic."

"Is that possible?" Harry asked, hastily adding, "Sir?"

"It is possible," Snape admitted. "Side-effects are common in experimental potions. Still, there is no evidence that the potions were to blame - as you said yourself, you felt no ill effects after taking them. I will, of course, look over my notes and test samples of the potions on lab animals."

Harry nodded, not prepared to thank Snape when it was Snape who might have made a mistake and put him in this predicament. Still, he supposed it was something that Snape was willing to look for the cause. Harry rather doubted that Snape really cared if Harry were able to do magic or not.

"I suppose Lupin told you that we expect the problem to resolve itself over the next few days?"

"Yes, sir."

Snape relaxed slightly, leaning back in his chair. "We will cancel your morning lessons until then, though I expect you to continue reading your Charms and Transfiguration textbooks at a steady pace. We will still have Potions lessons."

"Yes, sir," Harry repeated.

He wondered if Snape had forgotten about History and Defense, but he certainly wasn't going to remind him if he had.

Snape stood up. "Come, I will walk with you as far as your room."

Feeling like he would rather spend the rest of the night wandering the dungeon labyrinth, Harry followed him.

It wasn't until they were walking down the corridor that it occurred to him Snape would have likely been interested in hearing that Harry had not been drinking the second of the two potions he was given each time he went to visit his friends. Not that Harry was very eager to tell him about it...

In fact, Harry quickly decided not to. Nothing had happened, after all. The first potion simply wore off each time and he was no worse off for not having taken the other one. He was just lucky Snape hadn't been using Legilimency on him, or, if he had been, Harry hadn't remembered about the second potion and so escaped being caught out.

"Is your room satisfactory?" Snape asked suddenly.

Harry jumped slightly, startled. "Er... Yes."

"Not what you are used to?"

Harry figured Snape was trying to goad him again. His bedroom at the Dursleys had been smaller than his current room. His room at Grimmauld Place had been even smaller than that. And any of the rooms were a palace compared to the cupboard that had been his bedroom for ten years.

"It's a great room," Harry said, trying for a tone of finality to head off whatever insult Snape was planning. "I like it."

"I know it does not get much sunlight," Snape continued, as though Harry hadn't spoken. "You may as well get used to it now. You very likely will be in Slytherin, and the dorms have no windows."

"It's fine," Harry said. He wondered wryly how helpful it would be to mention that his cupboard hadn't had any windows, either.

"I'm glad you are adjusting," Snape said.

Harry gave him a sideways look.

Snape cleared his throat. "Here we are. Good night, Hadrian."

This time, Harry turned and looked at him. There was something wrong with Snape, he was sure.

Just the same, he wasn't going to take any chances. Lupin had warned him to be on guard, and no one was going to accuse him of slacking.

"Good night... Dad."

Then Snape did a horrifying thing.

Harry stiffened as Snape's hand came down on his shoulder, patting him.

Fortunately, it was over a second later, and Harry was left to stumble into his room while Snape strode off like nothing had happened.

With the door firmly locked, Harry threw Lupin's package onto his desk and himself into the chair, crossing his arms over his chest and making a disgusted face.

Had Snape gone mad? What had all of that been about?

If Hogwarts hadn't been invaded, the whole thing, starting from the moment he walked into Snape's office, had been just _bizarre_.

To distract himself, Harry ripped open the package.

Lupin had sent envelopes - the Hogwarts crest had been charmed off, and much better than on Neville's - parchment, and four tiny pots of colored ink.

He decided to just get it over with.

He picked up the first envelope from the stack and wrote 'Draco Malfoy' in green ink. Next, he did 'Ron Weasley', 'Fred Weasley', and 'George Weasley' in black ink, 'Neville Longbottom' and 'Luna Lovegood' in blue, and 'Ginny Weasley' and 'Hermione Granger' in red. He _didn't_ draw any silly flourishes, which he supposed was what the colored ink was really for.

They could just decide for themselves if they wanted to come or not. If he suspected that Snape might be right and Ron and the twins wouldn't, he would just ignore that feeling until later.

The invitations themselves took longer. He wished he could just write one and use a duplication spell - Hermione was excellent at that spell and it was very useful for class notes - and then just write in the names. As it was, he had to write each one out. Not only that, but he had to hold his quill at an odd, uncomfortable angle. Lupin had shown him how, and it did a lot to change his handwriting.

He left the time and place blank, since he had forgot to ask Lupin the details. He drew a line on the bottom and two boxes with 'YES' and 'NO'.

Lupin was probably going to say Harry should have asked for help with the wording, after all, but Harry was satisfied with what he had. It wasn't going to be some ridiculously pretentious event, anyway. Dainty sandwiches? No way.

He had parchment left over, so he used it to write a short letter to his friends. He wrote:

_Dear Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Fred, George, and Luna,_

_Sorry, but I won't be able to come to Neville's party or visit for a while._  
_Don't worry about me, I'm safe and nothing has happened. I hope you're_  
_well and I will see you later._

_Harry_

He wasn't sure how he was going to get the letter to them, but he rolled it up and tied it with a bit of string left over from Lupin's package. He would just give it to Lupin and explain that he didn't want his friends to worry about why he was staying away. He hadn't been told he couldn't write to them, after all.

That realization made him wish he had thought of writing to them before. He would definitely ask Lupin if he could. One lousy hour wasn't long enough to exchange all the information they wanted, or even just to talk. Even if he could visit every day, which was unlikely, it just wasn't enough time.

Happy with the thought that he had found a new way to stay close to his friends, Harry changed into pajamas and climbed into bed with his Charms book, thinking he would read a chapter or two. He still felt he needed to distract himself from how utterly strangely Snape had behaved earlier.

He just hoped he wasn't going to dream about it. His dreams were quite bad enough without adding Snape and his sudden disturbing inclination to treat Harry like Harry really was Hadrian.


End file.
